Even The Whitest Rose
by Foreverfirstloves
Summary: AU In the 1500's, they met and fell in love, despite her engagement to another. But he had power greater than she'd ever seen, and he wanted her. They were burned at the stake for that love. In present day, he watches her. She doesn't remember him or the love they shared. But time is runing out, and their past is catching up. Will love be enough to save them this time?
1. Chapter 1

** Hey, guys!**

**So I had this idea a while back, and got a few chapters wrote.**

**I finally decided to post it, and I really hope y'all like it!**

**PS. I'm not an expert on comets or celestial events, so if something seems off...just go with it lol**

**Thanks!**

**Also, each chapter will flip between the past and present day, but this is more of an prologue.**

**Hope no one gets confused!**

**Warnings: Very Dark themes, lots of "M" rated material.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned tvd, or any of the characters, I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction :P**

* * *

_**October, 1567**_

* * *

"Damon!" She called out, running through the long hall, toward the west tower.

The flowing red train of her dress barely hindered her, as she climbed quickly up the stairs.

But she was too late.

The king's men were already there, putting her lover in chains, and had clamped a metal guard around his mouth.

Though he could still speak, as her name fell from his lips.

"What do you think you are doing?!" She demanded of the men.

The captain gave her a look of regret, "Sorry, my lady, but we have our orders. He's set to burn."

She shook her head, "What is he being charged with?"

The Captain finished the last of Damon's clasps, before starting.

"I am not at liberty to release this sort of-"

"Captain, I am Elena Petrova, Princess of Mystic, the future queen of Aurelia, and you _will_ tell me what he is charged with."

The captain eyed her, but one of the other soldiers answered, "He's done the devil's work, your highness."

She met Damon's eyes, and found the blue pair calm.

He'd known this would happen...had warned her of such.

She relaxed her body, knowing what she had to do.

The only way they could be together.

"You're referring to the murder of the king?"

More than anything, this grabbed their attention, and the Captain moved to confront her, "You knew?!"

She smiled slowly, "Of course I did. I know of all the murders, the blood, the powers."

He grasped her arm, "You realize you could be beheaded for this! If you didn't speak up, you are as good as an accomplice!"

She rose a brow, forcing her face to change.

He let her go, upon seeing the veins run under her eyes, giving her the chance to slip her dagger from under her dress.

"You!" He gasped, "You're one of them?!"

Instead of answering, Elena lunged forward, slicing open his throat, as yells of terror filled the air.

She pulled him down to her, the dark essence of his life staining the front of her dress.

She put her mouth to the gushing wound.

The blood poured from him, as he grasped at her back, tearing the fabric of her dress.

She soon felt other hands on her, the soldiers trying to pry her from him, but she threw them off with her mind, and focused on the blood.

The captain no longer fought against her, and she knew he was dead.

She released his body, and whirled around to the others.

She was about to choose her next victim when, in a flash, the soldier to her right had pulled the lid off his flask, and drenched her with it's content.

She curled her lip, annoyed, "I am not a creature of the night, you fool. Vervain has no affect on me."

"Buu- Your face!" He stuttered.

She grinned, "You will see whatever I want you to see."

Then she wiped away the water, and sighed, "I suppose I could come quietly though. Wouldn't want you to lose your head over an escaped prisoner."

She threw her dagger to the ground and stuck out her hands.

Hesitantly, they chained her.

Her eyes found Damon's again, and he looked rather amused by the events.

* * *

The soldiers then forced them down the stairs, out of the tower, and into the wide, torch lit, hall of windows.

She heard voices approaching, and guessed that someone had ran for help.

What she had not expected, was to find her fiancee at the front of the battalion that had come to aid.

Stefan Salvatore, Damon's brother, and Aurelia's future king.

He didn't seem surprised to find her in chains, but his expression was heavy.

"I'd prayed it wasn't true," he swallowed, lifting a hand to the amulet at her neck, it's crimson red stone reflected the light of the torches, "But I was too late to save you, wasn't I?"

Damon's laughter vibrated behind his iron mouth guard, "How noble of you, brother...But surely you must realize that she was never yours to save."

Anger flashed in Stefan's eyes, "I loved her Damon. And you knew it. That's the only reason you insisted on poisoning her mind with your witchcraft."

Damon's brow raised, "You still believe me a witch? How quaint. But I can assure you, Elena's choices were her own."

"I loved her!" Stefan bellowed, grabbing Damon's head, "I loved you _both_. But I can't protect you from this. You will burn at the stake with my bride at your side...can this truly be what you wanted?"

Damon still managed to sound amused, "So even after such a boast of feelings, You won't save her? If I have truly twisted her mind, surely she cannot be held guilty...or is this her punishment, brother, for loving me?"

Stefan dropped his hands, his voice cold, "I tried to save her from you."

"But I didn't want to be saved," Elena spoke, causing both brothers to look at her, "It was my choice, Stefan. Everything he did to me, I chose."

His faced seemed to pale, as he whispered, "Why?"

"My entire life, I've done exactly as I was supposed to do," she reasoned, "I was the perfect daughter, and believed to make the perfect wife...But I wanted more."

"I would have given you everything," he argued, and she sighed.

"No, You couldn't. I was brought here for you, because our fathers believed that joining Aurelia and Mystic would be logical, brilliant. They'd double their forces and conquer the world. We were means to an end, given a duty we were expected to follow. But Damon showed me another way to live, and you have never felt power such as this," she insisted, "There is no end, no limitation to what is possible...And Damon has shown me that a love, if strong enough, is not tied to one mere mortal lifetime. We are eternal."

Stefan swallowed, "What you speak is blasphemy."

She smiled, "Then I shall burn. And from the ashes I will return, until such a time when Damon is king. And Aurelia is forever ripped from your weakening rule."

Stefan's eyes searched hers, "Damon was never fit to be king. His evil would destroy us, and for that reason, he lost his birthright. And now he's killed our father. Shaken the very foundation of our kingdom. One I will secure. Aurelia will live, thanks to me."

"No," she insisted, "I have seen what is to come. You, Aurelia's great and noble prince, will be her downfall. This dynasty will end with your death. Her structure will crumble as the halls run red with the blood of all that were needlessly sacrificed. And you will cease to exist, until the time has come for the House of Petrova to rise, upon a new Aurelia, and you will be there, watching as Damon and I tower before you from the top of her walls, her throne, and then you will truly know the inheritance of our birthright."

Stefan was stunned to silence, his eyes drowning in hers, until he whispered, "Witch."

She grinned, and he composed himself, "Guards, take them to the stake, and tie them together. Then let them burn. Let them see what their love has rewarded them."

Elena kept the smile on her face as he spun away, and started back down the hall.

He had no idea how true her words would come to be.

* * *

The metal of the chains dug into her wrists, but she hardly felt it.

They were finally out of the castle, being led by a collection of the king's guard, into the lawns opening, near the garden, where she could hear the screams and chatter of the villagers, having come to watch the show.

She smirked.

They reached the wooden stage, and the crowd fell silent.

She was held as Damon was tied up first, his back to the stake, his arms behind him.

They finally removed his mouth guard, and his beautiful face reflected from the surrounding torches and the light of the high moon.

He'd been right, it was full tonight.

But even better was the comet of Aurora Borealis at its corner, exactly as they'd predicted.

She kept her eyes on the sky, until one of the men dragged her, pressing her into Damon's body, as he looped her arms through his, and around the pole, securing them.

Damon looked down at her, "Are you alright?"

She met his gaze, "Perfect."

"The comet is aligned," he noted, "You've done the ritual, I presume?"

She nodded, "It's done. And we've both taken in human blood tonight. The last step is to..."

"Burn," he finished for her.

She leaned her head on his chest, "Promise me that this will work, Damon. That we'll be together again."

He kissed the top of her head, as the executioner began reading their offenses.

"Of course it will work."

"But the spell has never been performed for two. We don't know the effects of it. One of us could be different..."

"It'll work," he assured her, "We'll make each other remember if we must. Everything will be fine. This comet is one of nature's strongest recurring events, and you are the most talented spell caster I've ever seen."

She pulled away, meeting his gaze, "Only because of you, my love."

He smirked, "I may have put you on the path, but your abilities are natural."

She smiled, but her attention was diverted as the guard's speech ended, and they brought the torches forward.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous.

She knew this had to be done tonight, but the thought of the death that was now upon her filled her with fear.

Damon's voice reached out, "Look at me, Elena."

She forced herself to do as he said.

His face remained calm, "Keep your eyes on me."

She nodded, as light from the fire flooded behind her.

Damon's gaze held her, "The pain will be temporary, darling, and eternity still awaits."

She swallowed, nodding, "I love you."

He leaned down, straining against their binds to catch her mouth.

He kissed her soundly, before whispering, "I love you, too. We'll be together again."

The flames had nearly reached them now and Damon began to chant in a low tone.

She quickly picked up on what he was saying, and knew it was the last phase of the spell.

So she chanted too.

Their words grew louder, and louder, above the yells of the villagers, and whispers of their witchcraft.

The fire licked at her heels now, and caught onto her dress.

The heat was stinging against her legs, but still she chanted.

She spoke the spell until she could no longer endure the pain, and she dropped her head to Damon's neck, screaming into his skin.

His cries soon joined hers, and the smoke filled their lungs.

She managed, in that last moment, to look over Damon's shoulder, through the flames, and saw the castle, the heart of Aurelia, standing tall.

She smiled through the agony.

_Goodbye, my beautiful home._

Damon's words rang in her ears.

"We'll be together again."

_I promise_.

* * *

**Sooo, that's the first chapter! Kinda a prologue though.**

**Let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, so many positive responses! I'm glad y'all seem to like it so far :)**

**Just in case I forgot to mention in the last chapter, this story will be darker than my usual ones, in the terms of death/violence, ect. So full warning on that!**

**If you have any questions or get confused at some point, feel free to message me!**

**Otherwise, enjoy!**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena Gilbert jumped awake at the sound of her textbook hitting the floor, having slid off her desk.

A few other students in the class turned and looked at her, and she tried to discreetly hide her blush as she leaned to retrieve the book.

He friend Caroline threw her a concerned gaze that she shrugged away with a smile.

This wasn't the first time she'd lost focus in class and clumsily knocked something over.

And thanks to the dreams she'd been having, it probably wouldn't be the last.

But in her defense, this was history class, which was boring by default, so maybe falling asleep at her desk a few times shouldn't be that surprising.

She leaned over to Caroline, whispering, "What page are we on?"

The blonde pointed to the corner of her own book.

Elena glanced, then nodded, "Thanks."

Quickly, she turned the pages of her book to match, eyeing the material with mild curiosity.

It was a chapter over the mythology and folklore that surrounded ancient cities.

She scanned the list.

A lot of familiar names from Greek or Roman legend stood out, even some from Egyptian mythology, but as she read on, her eyes stopped over one.

_Aurelia._

She grazed her fingers over the text, as Mr. Saltzman, the teacher, began to speak.

"As most of you should know, but probably don't because nobody actually reads my assignments, these three cities," he motioned to the names on the board, "are the main focus of this week's discussion. Can anyone tell me why?"

Caroline's hand rose.

"Miss. Forbes," he called on her.

Caroline smiled, "Because Mystic Falls was built on the land of those three cities. If we were standing here 600 years ago, we'd literally be in one of those kingdoms."

Mr. Saltzman nodded, "That's right. But can anyone tell me which kingdom? Mr. Donovan?"

Elena's friend, Matt, sighed, glancing at the board, where the names Mystic, Aurelia, and Witmondor were written.

"Uh Mystic? Seeing as we live in Mystic Falls."

"Not quite," Mr. Saltzman noted, "Anyone else?"

"Aurelia," Elena stated.

She wasn't sure how she knew that, but still, she felt certain she was right.

"We'd be in Aurelia."

"Well Miss. Gilbert, you're not wrong," Mr. Saltzman nodded, looking slightly impressed, "Aurelia and Mystic were the two leading kingdoms in that time. Allied in war, they were impenetrable and even took over the city of Witmondor, which as you might have guessed, was later cut down to our modern day Whitmore. And while our town is named for Mystic, it was Aurelia first. Until the late fifteen hundreds, anyway, when the covenant between the two kingdoms was broken, and Mystic turned on Aurelia."

"Why?" Caroline asked curiously, "If they were allies?"

Mr. Saltzman smiled, "Well to be honest, there's about a million different versions of what happened, most clearly made up, but it's hard to know the truth."

"What do you think it was?" Elena asked, genuinely interested.

Mr. Saltzman looked at her, "The first version I heard was a little Shakespearean, probably twisted over time, but it's the one I find most interesting. And the most repetitive in the history books."

He sat on the corner of his desk, "It boiled down to the fact that both sides were power hungry. It was no longer enough to just be allies. They wanted to combine their lands, to create a kingdom to rule all others. So the king of Mystic sent his only child, his young daughter, to Aurelia, to marry the prince. Through their marriage, the kingdoms would join and both would have equal rule. But it didn't exactly work out that way. Because the prince she was sent to marry wasn't actually the first heir. He had an older brother, who had been deemed as evil from an early age, and had been hidden in the castle. And when the princess met the eldest prince-"

"He killed her?" Caroline guessed, but Elena knew that wasn't right, the oldest brother didn't kill the princess, "He loved her."

Caroline looked at her, then at the teacher for confirmation.

Mr. Saltzman nodded, "He did. And she loved him, despite being betrothed to his brother. But that's what inevitably got her killed. When the younger prince discovered that his bride-to-be was unfaithful, he was angered. In a fit of jealousy, he had both his brother and the princess burned together at the stake. Of course, when the king of Mystic learned his daughter's fate, he enacted his revenge. He broke the covenant of peace and invaded Aurelia, bringing down her walls with the same fire used to kill his daughter. He and his army obliterated the city and claimed all the land as their own. Of course, through the years, Mystic dwindled, and other cities were built, up until this century, where this town of Mystic Falls is all that is left."

He looked at the silent students and chuckled, "But of course, that's just one version of the story."

The bell rang then, and everyone jumped up.

"Alright, that's it for today," Mr. Saltzman dismissed them, "Just remember to read chapter eight before next Monday, because we are quizzing."

Elena put her book in her bag, and slid it over her shoulder, and waited as Caroline did the same, before joining her.

"Well that was dark," the blonde noted as they stepped into the crowded hallway, "What do you think happened to the younger brother?"

Images of fire and screams filled her mind, and Elena swallowed, "To be honest, I'm not sure I want to know."

* * *

As they made their way to the lockers, Elena was lost in thought.

Something in the back of her mind wasn't settled right, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what it was.

Maybe it was the dream she'd had in class.

Similar to the ones she'd been having for the past two weeks, all about Aurelia.

Though until today she didn't realize it was Aurelia in her dreams, but after seeing the word in her text book, it just fit.

Not that it mattered.

The dreams never made sense.

Just a collage of fire and blood, and a man with blue eyes.

Sometimes she talked to him in the dreams, sometimes they didn't talk at all, and sometimes they did a lot more than talking.

She blushed again, just thinking about the dream she'd had two nights ago, even though it was more disturbing than hot.

She'd been on top of the blue eyed man, his hardened cock buried deep inside of her.

He laid on an antique chaise as she rode him, in front of a blazing fireplace.

It had felt so real, the heat...the pleasure.

Only then the man had lifted a large silver goblet from the floor, and slowly leaned into her as he pressed it against her lips.

She drank its contents until she could swallow no more, and it ran down her chin, onto her chest.

It was warm, and thick, and red.

So very red, as it covered her torso, running over her breasts, down to her navel.

She had known, even dreaming, it was blood that he had then smeared onto her skin.

It was blood that dripped onto his perfect chest as their bodies merged.

And it was blood that he devoured when he brought his mouth to her tainted breasts, as they both reached their climax and she'd jolted awake, both terrified and achingly wet.

It was a strange sensation, as she was still a virgin, and couldn't explain the explicitly of her unconsciousness.

She hadn't told anyone about the dreams, not even her guardian, Jenna, even though she'd lived with the woman for years now.

It was just too embarrassing to share.

* * *

Elena shook away the memory and closed her locker, just as a pair of arms slid around her waist.

She smiled, knowing exactly who it was before she turned.

Her boyfriend grinned as she greeted him, "I actually caught you this time."

She nodded, "Yeah, sorry, I got a little distracted."

He grinned, pulling her close, "I can help with that."

He leaned down, kissing her.

She let him for a moment, then remembered that they were in the school hallway, and pulled away.

"Wait, Stefan, we can't."

He met her gaze, his voice a little husky, "But I've waited so long to kiss you Elena, practically forever."

She rolled her eyes, "Three hours isn't forever. Now come on, we're gonna be late."

He smirked a little, "Whatever you say, Princess, whatever you say."

* * *

**Sooo slight cliffhanger ;)**

**How much truth do you think n was in the story? **

**Why is Elena dreaming of Aurelia, and will she remember?**

**Stefan's there, but where's Damon?**

**Can't wait to read your reviews! :)**

**PS. I promise, the chapters will get longer eventually! Lol**


	3. Chapter 3

** I'm so glad that so many of you are already liking this story!**

**It's going to get a little fast paced soon, but it'll all make sense eventually, I promise!**

**Also, keep an eye on the dates ;)**

* * *

_**July, 1567**_

* * *

Eleniana Petrova was nervous.

After all, it's not every day that your father sends you to live in a new home, with people who were basically strangers.

She felt the carriage lurch to a stop as the driver halted the horses.

They must have arrived.

She glanced out the small window on the carriage door.

Sure enough, Aurelia's palace doors were before her.

She took a deep breath.

This wasn't entirely unfamiliar.

She had accompanied her father to Aurelia from their home in Mystic several times, on social occasions.

She would have tea with the king's wife, or play with their young son.

The very son she'd been sent to marry.

Her duty to her country, her father had assured her.

But she hadn't seen Stefan Salvatore in years, and had long since grown out of playing childish games.

She could only hope that he remained as kind as he had been back in the beginning of their youth.

She tried to remember what she could of him, but all that came to mind was the young boy that chased her around all those years ago.

Perhaps that was why her father suggested that she stay in Aurelia, with the Salvatore family, months before the wedding was to be held.

Maybe he hoped in the prolonging months, that she might actually come to love the Salvatore prince and feel less like a slave being sold in auction.

One could hope.

The footman opened her door, and reached a hand out in assistance, and then did the same for her lady's maid, Emily, once Elena was standing firmly on the dirt.

She glanced up at her new home.

The castle itself was as grand as ever.

Bigger than the eyes could take in at once, it was double the size of her home in Mystic. Large enough to get lost in, perhaps, if one so desired.

She took another settling breath, as small group of men walked toward her from the castles front double doors.

One, she recognized, was her father.

Despite her annoyance at his decision for her future, she smiled.

It had been weeks since she'd seen him last, after all.

Her grin was returned as he came close enough to grasp her hand and lay a tender kiss to it.

"Here is my angel. How was your journey, dear?"

"I've certainly traveled worse roads," she smiled, "And James was a wonderful escort."

"Glad to hear," her father nodded to the driver, then motioned at two of the men that had accompanied him in greeting her.

"Elena, surely you remember his majesty, Giuseppe Salvatore."

Elena gave the appropriate courtesy, "Your grace, I'm honored."

The older man's face softened, "As are we, my dear. You have certainly grown into a fine young lady. Hasn't she, Stefan?"

The youngest of the group stepped forward, and Elena could hardly believe that he was the same boy from her memories.

"Absolutely," he greeted, taking her hand and kissing it, as was custom, "And quite beautifully, if you don't mind my saying."

Elena blushed, but still smirked, "Your highness, surely flattery is beneath your station."

He smiled back, "Perhaps, but I suppose I could make an exception for you, Princess."

He dropped her hand and her father spoke again, "A room has been prepared to your liking. Emily can fix you up a bath before you join us for supper. I'm sure the trip over felt long."

He motioned for one of the servant boys that stood behind them to show her lady's maid to the rooms.

"Indeed," Elena nodded, gathering her dress in one hand, as Stefan offered his arm to escort her.

She looped her free hand through his, before addressing the king, "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, your Majesty."

"It's the least we could do," he assured her kindly, as they made their way through the doors, "After all, by the New year, you'll be family."

She nodded, feeling her cheeks redden again, and glanced quickly at Stefan.

He was handsome, no doubt, and he was clearly polite, respectable, a man any girl would be lucky to be betrothed to, she was sure.

But he was still a stranger, and in five month's time, he would be her husband.

That thought alone was enough to occupy her mind for many hours to come.

* * *

The warm bath was welcoming as she sank into the tub.

The water helped calm her nerves and clear her mind, as she prepared herself for dinner at the royal table.

No doubt the men would be discussing politics, or war. Or both. It was a specialty of theirs.

It's what had led to this arrangement in the first place.

Men talking.

It was logical, of course, to join the kingdoms through marriage and combine their forces, but she couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a game of power and gain.

They put her where the needed her.

But then, this is the way it has always been, and it is her responsibility as Princess of Mystic.

Her duty, that she had no choice but to see it through.

She dismissed Emily to go to dinner in the servant's quarters after the girl finished lacing her dress, then stood back to observe herself in the full length mirror.

Her hair was pulled halfway up, and the part that hung down adorned soft curls.

Her dress was a nice lavender, a style of the most modern fashion, with sleeves that swept off her shoulders.

The bodice was tight, forming to her already perfect figure, and the skirt flowed out just enough to compliment her small waist.

Over all, she assured herself that she was perfectly acceptable for dinner and could postpone joining the men no longer.

She wished the sweet queen hadn't of passed some years back from that terrible fever. At least she'd been a nice buffer, and a lovely motherly influence for Elena, whose own mother had died before she really had the chance to remember her.

Never the less, she would have to find her courage and handle this.

She was well trained, well educated, and was expected to act as such.

Showing up late wouldn't do, so with determination, she opened her door and forced herself down the hall.

* * *

The castle was beautiful, this much was clear, as she walked through the grandness of the second floor.

Mirrors and paintings hung on perfectly colored walls, hand painted in elaborate designs. It went all the way up to the ceiling that towered above her head.

She was so entranced by the castle's architecture that she wasn't paying attention to her path, and ran right into something incredibly solid.

Hard enough to knock her to the floor.

A sharp pain jolted through her arm, and she realized her palm had landed on some broken glass.

She winced as a voice rumbled.

"Look what you've done to my drink, you clumsy wretch!"

She flinched, then looked up to see what she'd clearly ran into.

Or who.

A tall, young man, with dark hair and piercing eyes stared down at her.

He seemed slightly familiar, but the embarrassment of her current predicament outweighed her curiosity.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she started, trying to stand, but winced again at the pain, and brought her hand up for inspection.

A shard of the glass that must have contained his drink stuck out from her palm.

The man was still watching her.

She heard him sigh, then his hands wrapped around her arm, and her lifted her to her feet.

"Let me see your hand," he instructed.

Her eyes shot up to his, but no longer found his blue orbs angry and cold.

Just blank.

Hesitantly, she placed her palm in his outstretched hand, surprised to find warm.

He observed her cut, "I'm going to pull the glass out."

He worked quickly, and it was almost painless, as he cleared her injury, then pulled out a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around her hand, tying it gently.

"Thank you," she told him politely when he'd finished.

His eyes met hers, "You should be more careful. Especially if you're going to be wandering around without an escort."

She straightened herself, "I wasn't wandering. I was heading to dinner. I'm supposed to join my father and the Salvatores."

His face relaxed some, "You're King Petrova's daughter. The Princess of Mystic."

"I am," she confirmed, her memory churning, "Have we met? You seem awfully familiar."

His face was void of emotion as he answered, "It's possible that you'd seen me around in our years of childhood. You use to play with my brother."

Brother?

She studied his face, realization dawning, "You're Damon, aren't you? The eldest Salvatore prince?"

"Nice deduction," he offered, the ghost of a smile on his face."

She swallowed, "I thought you died. No one ever saw you, rumors passed...everyone just assumed-"

"That I'd wasted away like my mother? Not quite, though my father likes to pretend so."

She dropped her head at his harsh tone, "My apologies, your Highness, I meant no disrespect."

He didn't answer for a moment, and she was compelled to look up at him.

His face seemed shocked.

"Your grace?" She inclined.

He snapped out of his stance, "Sorry, it's just that no one really addresses me as such."

She found that odd, "But you're the eldest son of the king. Heir to the throne, by law. Why wouldn't you be given the respect of your title?"

He eyed her, then his lips turned up in a smirk that made his entire face beautiful.

"You'll come to find that many things around here aren't as the should be, my lady, nor what you'd expect them to be."

She considered him curiously.

What did he mean by that?

After a moment, he extended his arm, "If you like, I'll escort you to the dining hall."

She nodded, "That would be much appreciated."

He smiled again as her arm slipped through his, "Tell me, do you practice being so polite, or does the niceness just come out all on its own?"

She watched her feet as he led her to the stairs that would take them to the first floor, before answering, "Being polite isn't a bad thing."

"No," he agreed as they came to the landing and he led her to the door on the far left, which she assumed, was the dining area, "But being too polite to everyone is probably how you ended up becoming Stefan's newest toy in the first place."

She froze, spinning to face him, "You rude oaf! I am his betrothed, not a plaything to be had for entertainment, and how dare you suggest otherwise!"

Damon was chuckling now, "It seems we'll make a habit out of offending each other, Princess, but know that that wasn't my intent. I am not being purposely rude, just honest."

She wasn't really sure how to respond to that, and was saved from having to when he reached for her hand and slowly brought it up to his lips, his eyes remaining on her.

She felt her stomach flutter as kissed her hand once more, before dropping it, "Good night, your Highness."

Her brows furrowed, "Are you not joining us?"

He shook his head, taking a step back, "It's wiser if I eat alone tonight. I wouldn't want to deliver offense to anyone else this evening."

She couldn't help but smile, "Do that often, do you?"

His only answer was a wink, before he turned and began to ascend the stairs.

She watched him until he disappeared, strangely feeling more compelled to join him for dinner than the over dutiful rulers behind the door she was now opening.

But this was her place, and she had no say on the matter.

* * *

** Okay, chapter three is finished!**

**In case anyone isn't following, each chapter will flip.**

**Past/present/past/present.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please review to let me know what you think! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sooo since I have a few chapters written in advance, I've decided to post a new one after receiving a certain amount of reviews for the last posted chapter.**

**So far, you guys have been awesome about reviewing, which means more chapterss!**

**Hope you like this one!**

** Oh, and trigger warning for this chapter, kinda. It gets a little dark.**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

He watched her, from the shadows, as she and the blonde stretched with some other females on the lawn.

His Elena, a _cheerleader_.

Somehow perk and team spirit didn't exactly fit the image he carried of her.

But then, he'd seen her drive a dagger through the heart of a man twice her size, and it was a little hard to buy this innocent schoolgirl look, after that.

But God, she was mouthwatering in her little shorts and camisole.

Women in their true time never wore less than ten pounds of fabric, covering three quarters of their body, at least, and Elena had been no different.

At least not around the others.

In his private bed chambers she often wore sheer translucent marital gowns that revealed the curves of her body and the skin of her cleavage.

She loved it when he cut them away with the blade of his knives, slowly, agonizingly, occasionally nicking the softness of her flesh with the tip, just enough for blood to spawn and turn the white to red.

She lived for it

Lived for him.

He had become convinced of that the night she killed her Bennett slave, at his request.

An unfortunate necessity, as young Emily had been a witch, a born witch, and they'd needed her power.

She wasn't the first witch to die for him, though, not by a long shot.

* * *

Unknown to his dearest father and beloved brother, his mother herself had been what he was, a Shadowcaster.

A person who could absorb the powers of others, and control it, use it for their will.

His mother absorbing the power of a witch was the only way he'd survived through childhood.

Her harnessed magic had cured him of the sickness he'd always had, but unfortunately, she hadn't been able to save herself.

She'd died just as he'd healed, and when this became known to his father, he'd been locked away, forgotten.

The family curse that no one was to know existed behind the castle walls.

It's all he'd been left with.

Until her.

His beautiful, fierce, Elena with her thriving Petrova blood, had brought him to life.

It's rumored that the witches of old used her family's blood to bind their spells, for its strength was so great.

A strength he'd experienced first hand, when she'd opened her wrist and let him drink from her.

His powers, being tied to that of blood sacrifice, had soared to new heights, his abilities limitless.

It was enchanting, addictive.

She was addictive.

And she was almost within his reach again.

He just need a little more time.

* * *

It had become clear that the memories of their lives together didn't transfer to Elena's new life, as it had with him, and his spoiled, backstabbing brother.

His backstabbing brother who had joined the football team and and was living out the all American dream.

It would be adorable if it wasn't so damn annoying that he'd gotten to her first.

Again.

But sure enough, in the past week he'd been watching her, he'd also found his brother, glued to her side, playing the innocent boyfriend.

It was too big of a coincidence that he just happened to be here in Aurelia, with her, for him not to remember.

The question pulling at him was "How?"

How had Stefan survived?

Unless baby brother delved into the power himself...

He'd find out soon enough.

It was only a matter of time before the three of them had their epic reunion.

And Damon planned on making sure it was spectacular.

* * *

Unable to do much else, he backed away from the field, throwing a final glance at his love before making his way toward the building.

He drew on the magic inside of himself, and used it to teleport across town.

With a blink, he was in the cabin he'd been inhabiting for the past week.

Small and discreet, miles from the town, yet close enough not to be inconvenient, he'd been lucky to find this place out in the woods.

The owner, however, not so lucky.

But getting to this point took sacrifices, and Damon had to make sure everything was in place before he dared impose on Elena's life.

So he'd focused himself.

It had taken him days to find a witch with enough magic to feed his hunger.

And after a five hundred year fast, it was great.

But alas, he had.

The girl was was young, no older than her mid twenties, and she was strong.

But not very smart.

He'd merely charmed her at a local bar, supplying her with drinks until she told him her name, Amelia Johnson, and that she was a student, working on her bachelor's degree.

She also had very little family, none that she talked too, which made her the perfect selection. It didn't take long before she was too far gone to use her magic against him.

The only down side had been waiting for the alcohol to leave her system.

* * *

Damon sighed, moving to the back room of his new home.

Upon the floor was the entrance to the basement, and his current destination.

Lifting the door, a set of stairs were revealed to him, and he descended them.

The room was dark, but he knew the muffled cries meant that his guest was awake.

He felt for the switch, and the light came on.

Bare of everything except a few boxes and a table, the room had become his perfect holding cell.

The young woman he'd captured laid upon said table, her arms and feet bound.

Scars littered her neck where Damon had taken her blood, then used her own magic to heal the wounds, refusing to let her bleed out.

But he had plans, and would need his strength.

The girl had tear stains running across her cheek, and the gag he'd placed around her mouth barely muffled the words she was trying to say to him.

He walked over, observing her.

Her eyes were dark, almost black, matching her unruly hair, that was now a mess of matted permed curls.

He brushed his hand against her forehead, pushing the hair away from her face.

She struggled against her restraints.

Damon lifted her head, untying the cloth there and pulled it from her mouth.

She took a gasp of air, shaken by a sob, before staring at him frantically.

"P-please, let me go..." She swallowed, "I'll give you anything! Money, my car, anything. I won't go to the police, just please!"

Damon sighed, "I have no use of your material objects."

Tears filled her eyes, "Please."

He ignored her, walking over to the shelf against the far wall.

It held on it, an impressive knife set.

Nothing like his daggers back in his true time, but passable, for the job at hand.

"What do you want?" She called out, begging, "I'll give you anything. Just please let me go."

Damon looked over his shoulder at the girl.

"I'm sorry Amelia. But there's only one thing I need from you. Lay still, and I promise, it'll be painless."

He walked over, holding the knife, and she began struggling again.

"No, please! God, please, no!"

He used the last of the magic in him to steady her.

"Shh," he insisted, "It'll only last a moment."

With a flick of his mind, he summoned a bucket to his side.

Then he slit her wrist.

Blood began to pour, dripping into the bucket, and she cried out.

He did the same to her other wrist, conjuring a second bucket.

He ran a hand across her chest as she bled, feeling the beat of her heart.

It only took minutes for the girl to pale, and her eyes began to flutter.

"Please," she whispered, her throat thick, as unconsciousness began pulling her under.

Damon leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Thank you for your sacrifice, Amelia. Know that I am eternally grateful."

Her eyes closed, and he rose, using the knife to cut her top open.

The cloth was tore to the side with little effort, her bare chest exposed.

Damon rose the knife above his head, and plunged.

It was difficult, cutting through bone, but he managed, carving into her chest until there was a hole wide enough to slip his hand inside.

His fingers felt the last few beats of her heart as he closed them around it, and pulled.

Her blood ran dark down his arm, and he smiled.

Power would soon be within his grasp.

With a breath, he brought the muscle to his lips.

He chanted the words of old, their lyrical flow filling him with strength.

Then he bit into the heart, the life source of the witch that now lay dead beneath him.

The taste was the same irony choke, but the sheer power that overcame him as it touched his tongue made him more than willing to swallow it down.

After all, if his brother was guarding Elena, he'd need to be as strong as possible.

* * *

An hour later, the girl's body burned behind him, her heart long devoured, and her blood stored away.

He held in his hand, a picture of Elena Gilbert, that he'd stolen from the house she shared with her aunt while they were out.

His fingers traced the frame, as he made up his mind.

He'd go to her today.

He'd introduce himself, and charm his way into her life.

He'd figure out a way to deal with Stefan, but for the moment, he needed to see her.

The real her.

He needed to feel her skin, look into those brown eyes, and know that she was truly alive and well.

So today. He'd find her today, and speak with her.

But how?

He didn't wish to frighten her, and randomly showing up in her bedroom might do just that.

He thought on it.

Perhaps he'd go to her aunt.

With his new power, it shouldn't be hard to compel her into a public outing.

The town's square had been abuzz with people earlier, for some sort of market.

That would be a good place to casually run into his love, on "accident".

Yes.

That's what he'd do.

Right after he showered and removed the stains of blood from his body, of course.

After all, he wasn't a monster.

* * *

** So this chapter was pretty Damon centered, but it was needed.**

**His character is different than how I usually write, so any feed back is appreciated!**

**Let me know whatcha think, and what you think might happen ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

** Loved the reviews, and can't wait to see what y'all think about this one.**

**Will update again soon, depending on the reviews for this chapter :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

_**August, 1567**_

* * *

Elena soon found that her days inside of the Salvatore castle differentiated little from the days inside of her own home in Mystic.

The tutors she'd had since she was a little girl came by three times a week for her class studies.

And when she wasn't taking lessons in Literature or Arithmetic, she was studying with her newer lady's maids, bought for her specifically for their knowledge of womanhood.

She learned the duties required of a wife, especially as the wife of a king, and much more.

But she didn't care about any of it.

Three weeks had passed, and the only thing different about her life was the scenery.

She'd hoped that marriage would be the adventure she felt she'd been waiting her entire life for.

But Stefan, in what little she'd seen of him, was everything expected of an heir to the throne.

Mature, responsible, unavailable...

Unfortunately, learning to run not just Aurelia, but Mystic as well, kept him plenty busy.

And her, plenty bored.

* * *

She'd taken to reading in her free time.

The palace had a grand library, one to rival her own back home, and she'd been allowed full access to it.

She could choose any book she liked, and she would often curl up next to the fire place and lose herself in the hour.

Occasionally, she'd take the books outside, to the jungle of a garden in the palace's backyard.

Two guards stood watch at the gates, so she felt plenty safe, roaming through the various trees, flowers, and other greenery.

She'd discovered a bench, during her first week, made of cast iron, and painted white.

It was positioned under a great oak tree, and the shade was a welcoming relief in the summer sun.

She sat there now, with Emily, trying to finish the latest novel that had taken her interest, but kept finding herself distracted.

The day was warm, but breezy, beautiful in all aspects, yet she could not find it joyous.

The doubts that plagued her were too strong.

Was she really going to surrender her life over to this negotiation?

Was it wrong to want a husband that loved her, not whom was simply kind?

Stefan didn't seem to mind it.

But then, Stefan was everything he was told to be.

She blushed as her thoughts turned to his older brother.

There had to be a reason Stefan was the next heir, instead of Damon.

By law, Damon should be successor to the throne, unless he'd denied his birthright.

She wondered if she'd ever find out why.

The king never mentioned him, nor had Stefan.

Had it not been for that small encounter, she wouldn't even know of his existence.

Odd for a prince, she noted, especially one of such...quality.

Her cheeks burned as she remembered Damon's lips on her hand, and how, for a fleeting moment, she'd wondered how they'd feel against her mouth.

She perished the thought quickly though, scolding her mind for it's lack of discipline.

There was no use in wasting time on such whims.

* * *

She straightened her book, trying to focus, but was soon interrupted again.

This time by the loud whine of a horse, and the pounding of hooves on the ground.

"Easy!" She heard a male voice cry out, "Steady her!"

"Tighten the rope!"

"Watch it!"

"She's a mean one, sire!"

Curious, Elena stood, peaking around the back of the garden's fence, to the stables across the way.

A few of the king's stable hands were trying to calm an enormous black mare, who was rearing in protest, thrashing around.

To her surprise, she spotted Damon, holding the lead.

"Emily," Elena called, and the girl was by her side instantly, "Take my things back to my room, please."

She handed her the book, and the bonnet she'd adorned, "I'll be up in a while."

Emily courtesied, then left her to her own.

Elena smiled, making her way from the garden.

"Move her forward," Damon was instructing one of the men, as Elena slowly approached.

The four males wrestled with the beast, but to no avail, as she kicked out.

"She's bloody mad!" One of them cursed, dodging a hoof.

It was a struggle, but finally, the horse was stalled, and the men smiled in satisfaction.

"That's quite an animal," Elena announced her presence, and each head turned.

Damon was the only one who didn't lower his head in courtesy.

Instead, he smirked at her, before telling the men, "Leave us. You've earned your rest, today."

They thanked him and bowed to her once more, before taking leave.

Then Elena found herself alone with the eldest Salvatore prince, the neighs of the mare lingering in the air.

"I wouldn't expect to find you in a place so diluted," he teased.

She smiled, "And I was beginning to doubt you even existed."

He raised his arms, "Well, as you can see, I do."

She shook her head, "A first born prince who isn't taking the throne, and now a horse wrangler. You're a man of many mysteries."

He rose a brow, "This coming from a Princess who's willing to spend her life with the likes of Stefan, yet is so bored, she's taken to poking fun at the wayward prince in dirty stables."

She narrowed her eyes, "Don't be conceded. It was this beauty that grabbed my attention, not the prospect of insulting you."

She stepped closer to the horse, "Is she yours?"

"She will be, if I manage to train her properly."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is," he agreed, "I have an appreciation for all things beautiful."

His words were of the horse, but Elena didn't miss the way his eyes roamed over her.

She straightened, "I don't suppose you'll tell me why Stefan takes the throne instead of you?"

Damon laughed, motioning for her to follow him back outside, "You are a curious one."

They walked and she smiled, "Well as you mentioned, I get a little bored. So I would ask favor of entertainment."

Damon sighed, "I'm afraid it's not the story you care to hear."

"Let me decide that," she urged.

Damon stopped as they neared the garden's gate.

"You haven't asked your fiance?"

She blushed, "Stefan stays rather busy. He doesn't have time for stories."

Or me, she added mentally.

Damon's eyes filled with pity, as if he heard her unspoken complaint.

"Come," he instructed, offering an arm, "I will tell you."

* * *

They strolled into the garden as Damon began to explain.

"My father blames me for the death of my mother. I was often sick as a child, and she tried everything to heal me. When she finally managed, she had nothing left to heal herself, and fell pray to the fever."

Elena swallowed, "I am sorry, truly."

Damon shrugged, "I was never fit to be king. My father wants a puppet on a string, and Stefan is exactly that. I wasn't."

Elena eyed him, "It seems a harsh reason to lose your birthright."

Damon chuckled, "Perhaps. But, I have found that being royal is much like being that untamed mare. If you can't be broken and trained, you are of no use. You can't run a country unless you are willing to chomp a bit."

She considered this, "And you aren't?"

A smirk teased his lips as he stopped at the very bench she'd occupied earlier, "I prefer freedom."

"And duty? That means nothing to you?" She challenged.

"Why should it?" He pressed, "My family has casted me aside. Why should I care for a country that believes me dead? No, I much prefer staying in the shadows."

She sat down, "It seems lonely."

He held her gaze, "No lonelier than the life you are being forced into."

She set her jaw, "You presume an awful lot."

That made him smile, "You're quick to grow angry with me."

"No," she corrected, "I'm annoyed that you seem to think that doing as you are expected means unhappiness."

"Doesn't it?" He asked.

"Not at all."

His lips pursed, as he pulled her to her feet.

"So you are telling me that you'll go through with our fathers' arrangement, and be satisfied? That you'll never have regrets or second thoughts about what your life could have been?"

She swallowed, "No."

"You're lying," he smirked.

"Or I'm not," she huffed, walking away from him to keep herself from saying something in anger.

However, Damon followed her along the path, falling into step.

"I apologize if I've upset you."

She laughed without humor, "I'm beginning to think you have another personality! You speak whatever is on your mind, then wish to apologize because it was rash. Things do not work that way."

She could tell he was smiling, as they followed the maze of the garden.

"Elena, wait."

His hand grasped hers, pulling her body to a stop.

She took a breath before facing him.

His eyes were bright.

"I didn't mean offence. You must understand. I interact very little with people of our station. Most of my dealings are with commoners, or servants. I speak my mind because I've never had to worry for my words. I do not mean to be rash. Just truthful."

His face fell into a pout as he silently asked her forgiveness, and her resolve crumbled.

"Oh, all right. But those of us with proper etiquette require a bit more sense in conversation."

He smiled, "Then I shall work on it."

She couldn't help but notice the beauty of his face when he promised such, and her heart jolted.

It also didn't help that he was standing so terribly close.

A heat, that had nothing to do with the sun, overcame her, and she dropped his hand, taking a step back.

"Yes well, see to it that you do."

Then with the last of her dignity, she turned, leaving him watching her, as she left the gardens.

* * *

**So, a little fluffiness after the intensity of the last chapter.**

**Hope you guys liked it!**

**The story is moving along faster than I thought lol, and for those of you that enjoy the "M" stuff, expect some lemony goodness soon ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

** Glad to see that you guys seem to be intrigued by the storyline :)**

**Hope you like this chapter as well!**

**A little more mystery is revealed, and I'm excited for it! :)**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

"Okay," Caroline called, "That's it for today! Don't forget that we'll have another practice on Friday, before the game!"

Elena groaned, stretching as her friend Bonnie came up next to her.

"Can I strangle her now?"

Elena laughed, "No, you can't. After she gets out of captain mode, she'll go back to being the Caroline we all know and love."

Bonnie sighed, leaning her head on Elena's shoulder, "Fine, but if she keeps at us like this, I'm going to feed her her own pompoms."

"Be nice," Elena told her.

Bonnie groaned, "Well you'd be cranky too if you were exhausted from developing psychic powers."

Elena laughed, "We talked about this, Bon. You are not psychic."

"I refuse to let it go so easily," the dark girl noted, "Too many things I've predicted have come true."

"That's called being lucky," Elena smirked, as their blonde friend scurried over, "Not psychic."

"Call it what you want," Bonnie sighed, "But I have a bad feeling about the comet event this weekend."

Caroline interrupted them, then, "This routine is totally going to win us state! I can feel it!"

Bonnie forced a smile, "Assuming we all survive that long."

Elena elbowed her as Caroline rolled her eyes, "Complaining isn't going to improve our stature, Bonnie. Persistence will! We've got to-"

"Care!" Elena laughed, "We been pepped and spirited for the past two hours. Save the four P's of success for tomorrow, okay?"

"Ugh, fine," Caroline groaned, "But I must say that I am severely disappointed in the lack of commitment here."

Elena smirked, "Yeah, we love you too. Now where's my water bottle?"

She looked around, spotting it on the ground, near her pompoms.

As she went to retrieve it another hand shot out, grabbing it first, "Too slow!"

She looked up, to see Stefan grinning at her, having just ran up.

"You ass," she laughed, "Give it."

He tossed it to her, before grabbing her waist.

He was still in his jersey, so she assumed football practice had just let out for the guys.

She took a drink from the bottle, and dusted some grass off his shoulder, "You're gross."

He smiled, "And you're not so bad yourself, thanks."

"Hey, we're gonna go," Bonnie called over, and Elena waved, "I'll text you."

She watched her friends take off before turning back to Stefan.

"Caroline's roped us all into a pre game practice on Friday, so I think we'll have to move our day date to Saturday."

Stefan pouted, "But we already have plans for Saturday night. Remember? Comet, popcorn, lights in the sky, town square..."

She sighed, "Yeah, I know, but you know Caroline."

He nodded, "Fine. But then we are having a full breakfast date Saturday morning, so no sleeping in."

She laughed, "Okay, sounds good."

He cupped her face, dropping a kiss to her lips.

She pulled away, "Mmhm, I really need to get going."

He sighed, "Fine. I'll see you in the morning?"

"You bet."

She kissed him again, before pulling back, and tucking her bottle under her arm.

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

Elena got home shortly after, and called out for Jenna as she opened the front door.

When nothing but an empty house answered back, she hurried up to her bedroom, dropping her bag on the floor.

Still sweating from earlier, she decided to take a quick shower.

It took little time to remove the grass and stickiness.

She turned off the water, and reached for her towel.

After wrapping it around her hair, she threw on her bathrobe, and made her way back downstairs, to the fridge.

She was always starving after practice.

Checking each shelf twice, nothing really stood out to her.

She checked the pantry instead.

Nothing.

Were they seriously almost out of groceries again?

She groaned and succumbed to grabbing an apple.

It didn't take long to slice it and put the pieces on a small plate before moving back upstairs to her bedroom.

Her laptop rested on her desk, where she'd left it yesterday.

She sat in her giant rolling chair, placing the apple slices next to the computer, before running a hand over the touchpad, waking it up.

All day she'd been unable to shake the story they'd been told in history, and she didn't want to wait any longer before scratching the itch it had created in her brain, now that she could focus.

Pulling up her favorite search engine, she typed in "Aurelia, Mystic, 1500's".

A bunch of random articles popped up, and she scanned through each one carefully.

Just as Mr. Saltzman had said, the story had many different variations.

Everything from star-crossed lovers to witchcraft and demons.

The theories were ridiculous, for the most part, but the names repeated were so familiar to her. Salvatore. Petrova. The ruling families.

She had no idea why though, and so far, nothing here had anything to do with the dreams she'd been having.

She sighed.

Of course it didn't.

They were just stupid dreams, meaning absolutely nothing.

She knew that rationally, it was the truth.

But she couldn't deny that something inside of her, beyond rationality, told her a different story.

She cleared the search bar, typing instead, "Aurelia, Salvatore Family Castle".

She was surprised when more recent pictures were available.

Apparently a magazine covering the state's most historic monuments had added the castle's ruins to its list.

There wasn't much left, but Elena knew the place in the photos.

It was in the woods, out behind the falls.

She'd played there as a child.

They'd always assumed the old rubble was a demolition of an old plantation.

There had been plenty around in the 1800's, but apparently they were wrong, and the old, overgrown stone, was all that remained of Aurelia's castle.

Looking through more pictures, the photographs soon turned to paintings.

Art dealers, flashing the gems they now owned which used to hang on the castle walls.

Elena scanned through the priceless pieces, until one caught her eye.

It was the painting of a woman, beautifully done. She had dark hair, crystal eyes, and fine cheekbones.

She held herself with an air of superiority, of royalty.

But none of this was important.

What stood out to Elena was the necklace at the woman's throat.

Identical to the one that adorned her own.

* * *

She reached up, fingering the amulet that hung just above her cleavage line.

She never took it off, if she could avoid it.

Her mother had given it to her just before the accident that had claimed her parents life three years ago.

The memory was clear, because it was also the night she discovered she was adopted.

Her parents had found her; a baby in the woods.

The police were baffled, and the process for Grayson and Miranda Gilbert to become her parents had been taken care of in a matter of days.

No questions necessary when no one knew who she was, how she'd gotten there, or where she'd even come from.

The only clue they had; an old necklace clutched in her infant hand.

She gripped it tightly now, as she stared at the painting on her screen.

The description read, "Lillian Salvatore, Queen of Aurelia."

And she was wearing Elena's necklace.

A pain split through her head as she baffled at the picture. She winced, her head falling to her hands. The throbbing got worse, until she nearly fell from her seat.

The picture blurred from her sight, new images replacing it.

_The picture of Lillian Salvatore was mounted high above the second floor fireplace._

_It loomed over her, as the fire crackled._

_A pair of hands drifted over her shoulders, exposed by the dress that curved off her arms._

_The necklace was draped over her head, though she couldn't see who was fastening it._

_But she could hear him._

_His voice a silver song in her ear.  
"It should be worn by a woman of worth," he purred, "A woman of beauty."_

_A kiss on the skin of her neck, "Never take it off, Elena. It's more powerful than you can imagine."_

The image cut off as the pain stopped.

She blinked, as she heard her name being called.  
"Elena? Sweetheart, are you home?"

She took a deep breath, shaking off whatever that was, "Uh, yeah, I'm up here."

Seconds later, her door opened, revealing her "Aunt".

Jenna was her adopted mother's sister, and had taken care of her since her parent's accident.  
"Oh, there you are! Are you busy?"

She started to shake her head, but Jenna's brows furrowed, "Elena, your nose."  
She lifted her hand to it, and her fingers were red when she examined them.

Blood.

"Oh, wow," she mused, walking over to her conjoining bathroom and wet a cloth, "I didn't even realize it."

She wasn't sure why she hid what she'd discovered from Jenna, but she did.  
It would remain her secret for a little longer.

"What were you needing?" She pressed, once all the blood from her nose was gone.

"Oh, right. I was going to see if you wanted to run to town with me. They have the farmer's market at the square today and I was wanting to pick up a few things."

Elena nodded, "Yeah, I'll go. Just, uh," she looked down at her robe, "Let me get dressed, and blow dry my hair."

Jenna nodded, saying, "Fifteen minutes!"

Before leaving, to give her some privacy.

Elena sighed, turning back to her computer.

She was being silly.  
It was just the memory of one of her dreams, she reasoned, that's it.

Still, she couldn't help but save the picture.

Just in case.

* * *

**Sooo, not sure if anyone picked up on this, but the necklace was mentioned in the first chapter ;)**

**Things may get a little crazy, but it'll all be explained soon!**

**Hope y'all enjoyed, and please, leave a review with your feedback :)**


	7. Chapter 7

** Wow, y'all's reviews are making my day! Seriously!**

**I hope the next few chapters will answer any questions! If they don't, feel free to message me :) This storyline is a little complex, so I don't mind!**

**And as I promised, the "M" stuff will happen soon! This story is very fast paced in that aspect, but there does have to be some kind of build up lol. So, patience, it's coming I promise!**

** Lastly, I can't answer back to guest accounts, sorry! But one guest review made me feel like I needed to make a point on something...**

**Damon is a DARK character in this story. Of course there will be character development, but I'm not concerned with making him redeemable. Yes, he's practically evil, and even selfish. But he's supposed to be! Lol. Damon isn't the white night of the story here. He's a villain. Who just happens to be in love ;)**

**Anyway, I'll stop ranting and let y'all read! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Damon couldn't sleep.

Hadn't been able to all week; since his latest encounter with the Princess.

He'd heard rumors of her arrival weeks before the fact.

Eleniana. The Petrova heir, Stefan's new bride.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting of her.

Perhaps to be of equal caliber of the other women Stefan had courted.

But no, there was something more to this one.

Most women cowered in his presence, on the off occasion he'd come to contact with them, before Stefan quickly whisked them away from the big bad Salvatore.

But Eleniana Petrova, or Elena, as he'd heard her called...She had spark.

A temper burned underneath her surface, and each time she lashed at him, he felt as though he'd accomplished something important.

She was intriguing, to say the least.

* * *

Once alone in his room, he'd uncovered the altar he kept hidden in the corner.

He'd mixed the required herbs for the spell he was performing, and pulled a tiny shard of glass from the cloth he'd wrapped it in.

The same glass he'd pulled from the princess' hand.

Something had compelled him to keep it, just in case it was ever of use, and now he was glad he had.

Dropping it into the bowl before him, he began the incantation.

As he spoke, the contents caught fire, burning hot, until nothing but a fine ash remained.

Damon reached for his dagger, pushing the point into the tip of his index finger.

When red seeped to the surface of his skin, Damon sat the dagger down.

He then proceeded to place his finger into the ash, and brought it against the center of his forehead.

He drug the mixture down, making a line along the bridge of his nose, to the tip.

Then, after another dip, he drug his finger across his forehead.

The moment his blood intersected, he felt the familiar pull of power surge through him, as his vision clouded.

Flashes of what would come played in his mind, stilling him.

He fell to his knees under the weight of what was revealed.

* * *

_Stefan reaches for Elena's hand, as Damon watches on. _

_His brother kisses her knuckles, and makes yet another departure._

_Elena's arms wrap around herself, as her face falls._

_This wasn't the life she wanted._

_Seconds later, her lady's maid enter, urging her to hurry to the library, as she mustn't be late for her studies._

* * *

_Him, pulling Elena flush against him. She giggled, "Damon, What are you doing?"_

_"Shh," he smirked, "We have but a moment."_

_Then his lips were on hers._

* * *

_Elena took the dagger in her hand and stabbed it into the wall near his head._

_"If you want her so badly, you do it!"_

* * *

_Elena in his bath, naked, with a bleeding heart in her hand, the blood running down her arms, turning the water red._

_"Join me."_

* * *

_Elena chanting at an altar in the woods._

_The wind blows widely, thrashing her hair around as the trees moaned and the ground shook._

* * *

A whirl of other things bombard him, fire and power and murder, but as the magic from the dream dust faded, the images became more choppy; fragmented.

Until they were completely gone.

He took a moment to breathe.

He didn't often find the need to watch the future.

It was set, fated.

No reason to glimpse what you can't change.

But this, this pull he'd felt toward the princess...

He'd known there was more.

Had enough magic in him to sense it.

And now there was no questioning the truth of what he'd seen.

Bring it fire or blood, she was his destiny.

* * *

Elena was excited for a change.

She'd have the opportunity for a little fun tonight, as the king was hosting a Masquerade Ball, in honor of her engagement to his son.

Elena loved dancing, and had hoped the night would give her the entertainment she'd lacked of late.

She stared down the stairway now, at the ballroom bustling with servants, making sure everything was perfectly placed.

She could imagine the extravaganza of it all, once they finished.

She smiled, her excitement growing.

"You shouldn't stand so close to the railing," a voice advised, startling her.

She turned, to find Damon Salvatore staring at her, his face emotionless.

She had seem him only a few times since their last encounter.

He only spoke to her when she was unaccompanied, even of her lady's maids.

However, the rare chance in which they did break words he was cautious, polite, yet endearing.

Damon held an air of mystery about him, and she always found herself curious of his secrets.

His haunting eyes usually kept her from asking, though.

"It yet lives," she teased, as he stepped forward.

A smirk graced his lips, elating her.

He was beautiful when he smiled.

"It likes to remain scarce," he offered, looking at the working party below them, "I see everything for tonight is in order."

Elena rose a brow, "Do you dance, your highness?"

A flicker of something passed over his face, "It's Damon, please...Just Damon."

She bit her lip, thinking she'd offended him again, "I apologize."

To her surprise, he chuckled, "You're too quick to please, Princess."

She smiled, "Do not berate me for having proper etiquette, _Damon_."

"Does proper etiquette mean you don't get to think for yourself?" He challenged, turning to walk back toward the hall.

She threw one last glance at the servants below, before following him.

* * *

"I do think for myself," she insisted.

He stared ahead as he walked, but answered her, "I'm not sure I believe that, Eleniana."

Her name sounded strange on his lips.

Perhaps it's because the only male to address her as such, was her father.

All others, even her fiance, called her by her title.

However, Damon was nothing like other men she'd encountered.

Which is perhaps why she was still walking with him.

"Elena," she corrected in despise of her given name, "And what influences your opinion, might I ask?"

"I've seen you as the days pass," he stated simply, "You're miserable."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but found herself unable to lie.

Not to him.

"I'm doing what I must for my country," she said instead, "Happiness wasn't part of the negotiation our fathers made."

Surprisingly, he didn't retort back with another rude accusation.

And she felt probed to say more.

"Besides, I'd be just as miserable at home. It's the price you pay for luxury. And this is a grand opportunity for our countries. It's not often kingdoms are able to conjoin so peacefully. And Stefan is a good man."

Again Damon offered no answer, and her annoyance spiked.

"You believe differently?"

Sensing the anger in her tone, he stopped.

His blue eyes were intense as they held hers, "What I believe, _Elena_, is that you haven't said a single thing that they haven't told you. And if that's what it takes for you to get yourself though this, alright, but don't pretend like you actually believe what you're saying. Anyone who takes two seconds to look at you can tell that you hate this _negotiation_. And I pity you."

She flinched at the intensity of his words, and at the truth of them.

She swallowed her anger, and spun away from him.

Only to find a wall.

She glanced around and realized that her surroundings were unfamiliar, and three different halls were available to her.

She'd followed Damon to a part of the castle she'd never been.

Finding her way back was going to be a nightmare.

Damon watched as she picked a hallway at random, and began to storm away.

She didn't get far before his hand closed around her wrist.

"Let go of me!" She demanded, pulling at him.

"That's the wrong way," he warned.

"I don't care!" She growled, unable to yank her arm free.

Angered, she hit his chest with her palm.

In a move faster than lightning, he had her backed into the wall, arms pinned above her head, and every inch of his lower body pressed against hers as he used his hips to hold her in place.

She blushed furiously, with a heat she wished was only from the inappropriate situation she'd landed herself in, and had nothing to do with the fact that her chest was pressed against his, and those blue eyes were darkening.

"Release me," she told him, trying to keep her voice calm, "Release me, or I'll scream."

He smirked again, his face entertained.

"Go ahead," he taunted, "No one will hear you."

She knew that all the servants would be preparing for the ball, on the other side of the castle, and the guard was with Stefan and the king, who had ridden out to the nearby city and wouldn't return for hours.

Fear filled her at the thought, as Damon's eyes draped over her face.

"Relax, Princess," he stated finally, backing away, "I don't wish to compromise your virtue."

His gaze over her body, however, said otherwise.

She blushed further, knowing she should leave now, but unable to.

"What do you wish then?"

He crooked his head, observing her.

"That's not the question you need to worry about," he told her.

"I thought you wanted me to think for myself," she shot back, "How does that work if you're telling me what to worry about?"

She was rewarded with his grin.

"See," he praised, "You're learning quickly."

He offered nothing else as he turned toward another hall, one that would take them even further than where she needed to be, she was sure.

"Why do you like to irritate me so?" She accused.

He stopped, with a laugh, turning to face her, "Because that's the only time I get to see who you truly are, Princess. Everything else is the mask they've made; the real mask you'll be wearing tonight, as you play the happy part of loving betrothed, for the people of our fair cities," he stepped even closer, enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, "But I can see that there is more to you. Perhaps, if you get angry enough, you'll realize the same."

She wasn't sure how to respond, and was saved from doing so when he pointed to the hall on her left, "That one will take you to the east wing. Follow the stairs, and you'll find your way back to your quarters."

Then he left, once again turning his back to her.

* * *

Elena tried not to think about the encounter as she prepped for the ball that night.

She'd found her way back easily enough, and had been able to enjoy a few hours of solidarity before having to get ready.

But she couldn't stop thinking of Damon's words.

And how true they really were.

Not that she'd give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud.

She couldn't explain the frustration she felt in his presence, or the desire she now felt to see him again.

It was wrong, her mind knew that, but he was a puzzle.

Alluring and seductive, and she had nothing else of interest left to occupy her thoughts.

Nothing accept for the party tonight.

She wondered if he'd be there, but a masquerade ball really didn't seem like it would appeal to him.

Though, admittedly, she hardly knew him.

Emily laced the back of her dress, claiming her attention.

"Sorry, M'lady," Emily winced as the dress pulled even tighter.

As if the corset beneath hadn't restricted her breathing enough already.

She sighed.

The dress was one of her father's choosing.

He had connections across the seas, and often had precious and rare gifts brought over for her.

The latest styles in fashion were included.

Finally, the gown was laced properly, and Emily backed away so she could observe herself in the mirror.

She immediately understood why her father had chosen this gown specifically.

It was an ivory satin, a few shades away from white, and the cream of it complimented her dark features beautifully.

The elegant skirt puffed out enough to distinguish her as royalty, for who else could afford such fabric.

The front scooped off her shoulders, revealing smooth skin that was now being adorned with a string of pearls.

She looked every bit the bride she was meant to.

Lastly, Emily slid her adorned, jeweled white mask into place, careful not to ruin her artfully twisted hair, and she was ready.

Giving herself one last glance over, she decided it was as good as it would ever be, and walked out of the room.

* * *

As expected, music filled the halls, growing louder as she made her way to the top of the staircase platform, where Stefan was waiting to escort her down.

He looked like perfection.

His royal dress robes fit the contours of his body brilliantly, and his simple grey mask did little to hide his kind face.

He smiled as she approached, Emily straightening the back of her dress, as she came into view of the public.

Stefan signaled out, and the music came to a halt.

"Honored guests," the king's voice bellowed from his balcony view across the room, Elena's father standing with him, "I present to you, the crowned prince, Stefan Salvatore of Aurelia, and his betrothed, her royal highness, Elena Petrova of Mystic. With their marriage, we will join our land, our kingdoms, and will truly rise as the greatest empire since the fall of Rome!"

Cheers and applause filled the air, as the band started again, and Stefan linked his arms in hers.

As they descended the stairs, he leaned into her ear, "You look beautiful, my lady."

She smiled at him, "And you are as dashing as ever."

They reached the bottom, and began the customary "first dance".

Stefan was clearly trained, and moved without hesitation, each step sure.

He whirled her around, showing her off to the room.

Soon though, the tempo changed, and the floor flooded with others.

This dance was a traditional waltz she'd seen done a million times growing up in the palace.

She was twirled, then passed to the arms of an older duke, then a Lord, as Stefan was claimed by a countess.

Each person of note congratulated her, and bowed gracefully before passing her to the next contender, each as stiff as the last.

* * *

After what seemed like an hour of dancing, she'd lost sight of Stefan completely, and was whirled into the arms of her next partner.

A steady hand gripped her hip, and she looked up into blue eyes that could only belong to one person.

"You came," she breathed, as he moved them across the floor.

His black mask didn't change the affect those eyes had on her knees.

"You didn't think I'd miss this, did you?" He teased, their earlier scuffle apparently forgotten.

She couldn't help but smile, "You seem to enjoy your privacy."

He shot a glance around the room, "I still do. But isn't that the whole point of a masquerade? Animosity?"

He slid his arm further around her back, pulling her tighter against his body.

"Damon," she warned.

They were at a ball celebrating her engagement to his brother, and him holding her like this was nowhere near acceptable behavior.

"Just relax," he repeated, "Have fun."

She pulled away slightly, holding his gaze, "What are you doing here, Damon?"

She didn't have the patience for his games.

He seemed to realize this.

"Would you believe that I came to rescue you?"

She laughed, despite herself, "You, rescue me? From what? A long night of dancing and dining?"

He smirked, "The prospect of being stuck here all night doesn't frighten you?"

She let him twirl her, before insisting, "The only thing that frightens me, sire, are your manners."

Furthering her point, he pulled her back against his chest, leaning toward her ear.

His velvet whisper left goosebumps on her skin, "That's not the only thing, Elena. I've seen things, I know things. And you'll never be satisfied."

He spun her again, this time, their chests meeting.

His eyes entranced her, "So the way I see it, you have two options..."

"Is that right?" She asked defiantly.

He grinned, "It is. Option one, you can stay here, attend the party. Be the good little girl you've always been, the one they trained you to be, and go to bed tonight, wondering what would have happened if you'd chosen option two."

Her throat suddenly felt dry, "And what is option two?"

"You'll have to follow me to find out."

She looked around, "But...everyone, the guest-"

"Are so captured in themselves that they won't even notice your absence."

He dropped his arms, backing away, "It's your choice, Princess."

He walked away then, leaving her with the decision.

She knew what the right thing was, the responsible thing.

Don't do it, she told herself, as the last of Damon's dark hair disappeared from sight, Don't follow him.

Don't you dare.

Don't.

* * *

** Personally, I love how this chapter turned out! Hope y'all did too!**

**Can't wait to hear from you!**

**P.S. Told you I'd try to make longer chapters! Lol**


	8. Chapter 8

**So excited for this chapter!**

**Y'all's reviews were again, awesome! And to the ones that Pm'd me, thank you! It made me so happy :)**

**Anyway, hope y'all like this chapter! **

**Delena finally meet in the present, and it doesn't go the way you'd expect ;)**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena loved the farmer's market that took place in the square once a week, but on the last market of each month, like this one, everything was brought out to sell.

Today, everything from the latest harvest to hand crafted carpentry was set up in booths all around the square.

It was even bigger this year, thanks to the comet.

It had been this huge week long event as the comet of Aurora Borealis had passed into their hemisphere for the first time in nearly half a century.

On Saturday night, when the comet finally touched the moon's apex, the sky is supposed to fill with colors rivaling the northern lights, and it was apparently a pretty big deal.

They'd done an entire paper over it in her science class last week.

* * *

The influence of the Aurora Borealis was evident to Elena, as she walked around with Jenna, who was more interested in restocking their vegetables, than visiting the booths centered around a burning rock in the sky.

But her mind was peaked, especially after today's events, and she soon excused herself from Jenna's side, to look around more freely.

She noticed paintings, and meteor rock collections, but passed them by.

She did the same with a booth selling purses, and another with a flake gypsy woman giving palm readings.

Toward the end though, she found a booth ran each month by Alaric Saltzman, and paused.

Her favorite history teacher was known for selling books on a seasonal rotation, but today, even his selections were a little more focused.

She picked up a corner book on comets and flipped through it as Mr. Saltzman talked to an older woman in the distance.

The book was rather generic, and she traded it back for a different one.

This one was about rare stones.

Curiously, she reached up and felt her necklace.

She wasn't really sure what the amulet was, though she doubted it was in this book.

Idly, she wondered if maybe Mr. Saltzman would know.

She placed the book back, and waiting for him to return.

It didn't take long.

* * *

"Miss. Gilbert," he addressed, "My favorite student."

She smiled, "Mr. Saltzman, my favorite historian."

He chucked sitting down in his fold out chair, "What can I do for you, Elena?"

She motioned to the chair next to him, "May I?"

He nodded, and she moved around the table set up, to take her seat.

"I have a question about this," she told him, skipping the pretenses, as she removed her necklace.

She put it into his outstretched palm.

"I've had it for years...since birth, actually, but I have no clue where it came from, or what it's made of."

Curiously, he examined it.

Her neck felt bare without it, but she wanted answers, and Mr. Saltzman was a brilliant man when it came to history and artifacts.

His face scrunched in concentration as he turned the necklace over.

"You don't remember where you got it?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I was adopted. The necklace was with me when my parents brought me home."

"Interesting," Mr. Saltzman mused, before letting out a laugh, "You know, it's crazy, but I'd guess that this is an almost perfect replica of a piece of the royal treasury from the 15th century, but that stone was diamond. This is more accurate to a ruby."

A chill shot down Elena's spine, "I found this today."

Pulling out her phone, she quickly googled the queen of Aurelia painting, Lillian Salvatore.

The same picture from earlier popped up.

"There," she showed him, "It looks the same to me."

Mr. Saltzman glanced at the photo, then at her necklace.

"It appears so," he agreed, "That's very curious. Have you had the necklace appraised?"

She shook her head, "Until today, I thought it was just a family heirloom or something."

He nodded, handing the necklace back to her, "If I were you, I'd look into it," he told her, "George Lockwood, over at the antique shop, might be able to help you. He worked for an auction house in Richmond a few years back."

She nodded, standing, "Thanks, Mr. Saltzman."

"Anytime."

Elena walked back out to the street, looking around for Jenna.

When she spotted her talking to a man over onions, she smiled and started toward Lockwood Antiques.

* * *

Damon had never been a fan of patience.

It meant restraint; control, and he hated both.

However, in certain cases it was necessary.

And he'd shown more patience this week than ever before.

For her.

He kept an eye on her now as she slipped across the road, toward a string of shops.

The streets were busy, she was alone, and Stefan was nowhere in sight.

Perhaps now, he could finally make his move.

He needed to do it soon.

Time was ticking after all, and the comet of Aurora Borealis didn't pass Earth very often.

Let alone line up in a string of celestial events for him to draw power from.

No, this was his one chance, and he wouldn't miss it.

* * *

Quietly, he weaved through the crowd of people, following Elena's path to an old antique shop.

He walked inside, a little bell jingling as he entered.

The shop was a fair size, with shelves of random knick knacks taking up most of the front space, the objects getting larger as he walked further back.

There was no one behind the register, where Elena was patiently waiting, fingering the necklace at her throat.

He was as curious about it as she had been, because if memory served him, she was wearing the thing the night they burned.

It should have been turned to ash, yet there it was, right in place on her beautiful neck.

He stayed hidden behind the closest shelf, feigning an interest in a pen set as she began to tap her foot.

After a moment, she seemed to give up waiting, and began looking around.

He followed behind her as she moved from a Victorian Era table to the very back of the shop, where she found a crystal butterfly wind chime. He smiled as her long delicate fingers reached up to brush the metal rods together, sending a trickle of music throughout the shop.

He stepped closer, running his eyes over her body, before finally calling attention to himself, "You know, the average butterfly lives less than two weeks after it's transition."

She smiled, still transfixed with the instrument.

"Live fast, die young," she quoted, "They're the rock stars of the insect world."

He smirked, "Something like that."

She looked back at him, and at last, he got to dive into those chocolate irises.

He didn't expect them to grow in confusion.

"You," she whispered, swallowing.

He cocked his head, "Sorry?"

She blinked up at him, "Who are you?"

He didn't understand the look she gave him, or the emotions radiating from her.

"My name is-""

"Damon..." she breathed in deeply, surprising him, "Not to be weird or anything, but I...I think I had a dream about you."

She blushed a beautiful scarlet, "God, I'm sorry. I'm uh, it's just uncanny. You look exactly like-" she shook her head, "I'm sure it's my imagination, forget I said anything."

She was embarrassed.

He couldn't help but laugh, "Don't worry, Elena. I've dreamed of you too."

She stopped fidgeting then, and held his gaze, "You know my name?"

He stepped closer to her, "I know a lot about you."

"Because of the dreams?" She asked, hesitantly, almost as if in a trance.

He could almost hear her heartbeat speed up, as he took a step closer to her.

He smiled, "You could say that."

She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, "And what happens in your dreams?"

He couldn't stop himself this time.

His control had been pushed beyond its limit already.

She was his, and he'd been without her for too long.

He reached out, pulling her into his arms.

She let out a gasp at the contact, and he lifted her chin.

Then his mouth was on hers and everything else disappeared.

* * *

Elena couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

The man she'd dreamt of all week, was real, and he was kissing her.

She froze the second their lips touched, petrified.

But the moment he squeezed her body against his chest, kissing her deeply, something changed.

Like his touch was a fire on her skin, and she needed him like the air she breathed.

She kissed him back in a frenzy.

Emotions she'd never experienced before flooded her heart, and she wanted him closer.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he picked her up, his hands cupping her ass through her jeans.

She wasn't sure what he sat her on, but it was sturdy and solid, so she didn't care.

His tongue shot across her mouth as his hand dug itself into her hair, fisting it.

She responded eagerly, her hands trailing through his hair, then down his hard chest, nails scraping.

This seemed to encourage him, as his arm wrapped around her back, bringing her torso against his, and her knees braced against his hips as they ground into her.

Her sense of reality was gone; it felt like the world was exploding around her.

All she could feel was _him_.

All she could taste was his breath, new yet achingly familiar.

And it wasn't nearly enough.

A strange sensation tickled her throat, and she realized her necklace had heated against her skin, as if drawing warmth from their passion.

"Elena," he purred across her cheek, "My darling, Elena."

She met his eyes, just a flash, and expected to wake up again.

But this time was different, she felt it in her bones.

This time was real.

Shit.

* * *

She pulled away from him, untangling herself, needing distance between their bodies.

Once he allowed her that, the urgency lessened, she took a breath, and came to her senses.

What was she doing?

This man was a complete stranger, and she'd practically been having sex with him on an old oak table, in a public pawn shop, in the middle of the day, during the end of the month farmer's market.

And she had a boyfriend!

Holy shit.

What _was_ she doing?!

* * *

She stared back up at her dream man, meeting his waiting expression.

"You can't...you can't just go around kissing strangers!" She scolded, catching her breath.

"You and I both know that you aren't just some stranger," he convicted.

"Actually no," she corrected, "I don't know. I don't know that, and I don't know you, and this is probably a psychotic breakdown. You're a manifestation of my dreams, I clearly should have gotten more sleep, or studied less for that math quiz, or-"

His hand touched her face, silencing her.

"Elena," he spoke her name with reverence, "This isn't a dream and this isn't a hallucination. We are very real."

She swallowed, "No...no, this has to be something, it has to be a...maybe it's just...," she couldn't think of anything rational.

So, instead, she asked, "Why have I been dreaming about you?"

At that moment, a couple of women walked next to them, coming to check out the merchandise.

Elena blushed, instinctively straightening herself, and ran a hand through her hair.

"Not here," he told her quietly, "Will you meet me?"

She blinked, still praying this was all just a very real, very elaborate dream, "Where?"

"The ruins of Aurelia's castle, you know them?"

She nodded.

"Meet me there tonight, at ten."

She swallowed, "Because meeting a stranger in the woods, alone, after dark, is _so_ safe."

He smiled, making his face even more heartbreakingly beautiful, "As I said, we are hardly strangers, Elena. I'll explain everything tonight."

Her heartbeat sped, "And if I decide not to show up?"

His eyes flashed, but his answer was calm, as he lifted his fingers to her chin, "You will come. I know you, and you always choose the second option."

She wasn't sure what that meant, but she didn't have time to question it.

Jenna had entered the shop and was calling her name.

The man smirked, his hand dropping, "My beautiful Eleniana, I shall see you tonight."

* * *

**Woo! Finally, they met again!**

**What did you think?**

**Was it what you expected? ;)**

**And will she meet him at the ruins?**

**Take note of a few things in this chapter, like the necklace and Elena's emotional reaction to Damon ;)**

**And the "second option" hint lol.**

**Your welcome! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Woo! 100 reviews! So fast too! You guys are awesome!**

**Here's a super long, "M" chapter for your reward ;) lol**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Elena knew how wrong this was.

How irresponsible.

But she couldn't find it in her to care as curiosity overwhelmed her.

It was easy to slip from the party unnoticed.

The ball was in full swing, everyone, everywhere, and she wouldn't be missed for a while, at least. This thought should have terrified her, but it didn't.

She slipped out the door she'd seen Damon leave from.

He was there, across the hall, waiting expectantly.

He'd known she'd give in.

With a final glance back to the door, she exhaled, and walked toward him.

Her dress was so tight, restricting her, but she ignored it as Damon extended a hand to her.

This was the last chance to be a smart woman, she told herself.

Turn around, and go back to your fiance.

But then Damon smiled at her, and nothing else mattered.

She placed her hand in his.

* * *

He pulled her down the hall, quickly, and she had to pick up the ends of her dress to keep from tripping.

They turned around a few curves, went through a few doors, and under a few archways.

Elena had no idea where he was leading her, but she hadn't felt a rush like this since she was a child, so she followed him.

Finally, they entered what appeared to be a small library.

Damon let go of her hand then, walking to the shelf.

"What are we doing, Damon?" She asked breathlessly.

"Shh," he commanded, reaching up until he found whatever book he'd been searching for.

To her surprise, when he pulled the book, it sprang back into place, and the wall slid open.

It was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

He motioned for her to follow him through the passageway, and she hurried to his side.

The door closed behind them, trapping them inside a different room.

It was bare, lit only by a torch.

"What is this place?" She whispered.

He took her hand again, "I'll show you."

He picked up a torch she hadn't seen, lying on the ground, and lit it with the one mounted on the wall.

The light casted out in front of them, and she saw a long, dark hallway.

She shivered in excitement.

"Don't be frightened," he told her.

She smirked at him, "I am not afraid."

He squeezed her fingers, and led her down the hall.

It seemed to get darker, the further down they went.

Finally, there was an end, though she found it as empty as the room they'd just left.

Damon released her hand so he could feel the stone wall in front of them.

She waited.

Surely enough, as soon as he hit a certain spot, the wall shuttered, then moved to reveal a staircase.

This different, winding in a circle until they reached the top, where a thick wooden door stood locked.

As Damon pulled out a key, she looked down at the winding stairs.

"We're in one of the towers, aren't we?" She asked.

Damon nodded, unlocking the door, "But none that you can see from the outside."

She frowned.

What kind of tower was built behind the castle walls, especially one that was so difficult to get to.

Damon seemed to read the questions on her face.

"It was built as a safety room," he explained, "My mother's father showed it to her when she was young and she only ever showed it to me. No one else knows it exists."

He opened the door, and more light flooded the staircase.

As a wave of warmth hit her, she allowed him to lead her inside.

She was immediately impressed.

"I see why you keep it to yourself," she breathed.

* * *

The room was enormously spacious.

A monstrous, four posted, canopy bed was set to the left of the door, a beautiful chaise at the foot of it.

A solid oak dresser of excellent craftsmanship stood next to it.

A bear clawed, cast iron tub was to the right of an elegantly carved fireplace, the source of that wonderful heat, and animal skins covered the floor, to the point that hardly any cold stone was left.

Something else, like a table, was set in the far corner, but a cloth covered it's contents from her sight.

"This is your bed chamber," she realized, "This is where you stay when you disappear?"

Damon nodded, as she looked up at the dome roof. A single window was at the top, angled to cast light on the bed with the morning sun.

Damon's words brought her attention back down to him, "My father wanted nothing to do with me once my mother died. I thought it better to stay hidden away up here then to cross his path. It didn't take long for him to all but forget my existence, or at least to pretend to."

She marveled at the man in front of her.

"I don't see how anyone could forget you, Damon."

His eyes reflected the firelight, and suddenly, the silence was stifling.

"Why are you showing me this?" she had to ask.

He took a few steps toward her, "Because I can."

She held his gaze, "What does that mean?"

He smiled, changing the question "Why did you follow me, Elena?"

She swallowed, feeling small as he began circling her.

"I was curious."

He shook his head, "No, there is more to the truth. You are bored."

She lifted her chin, "So, maybe I am."

He grinned, "You have a beautiful temper."

A blush rose in her cheeks.

Growing up, it was that temper that got her in trouble.

She'd long since learned to control it, or so she'd thought.

"You bring out the worst in me," she admitted.

Again, he shook his head, "No, my darling, I bring out the _real_ in you."

"And you know the real me?" She challenged.

He nodded, "I told you, I've seen it."

"How?" She pressed.

"That's not important right now," he assured her, "You only need to know that the things I see, the things I want...they come true."

"And you see me?"

He nodded again, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

"I've seen you, Elena. I've seen how tired you are of the same daily routine. I've seen how each day under their thumb is slowly killing you. Crushing your potential."

His fingers drifted up to her face, removing her mask.

"My potential?" She repeated.

He didn't answer, but moved to take off his own mask.

"I'm going to save you."

She smiled, "And how will you do that?"

His hands drifted, until they wrapped around her arms and pulled her forward harshly.

Her breath caught as their chests touched

"I'm going to open your eyes," he told her, "It's going to scare you. It's going to make you question things, and doubt all that you stand for...But you'll be free. Liberated beyond anything you can imagine. Duty, country, the wedding...none of it will matter. I can offer you a new life, Elena. One filled with passion, adventure, and even a little danger...all you have to do, is say yes to me."

She swallowed, "And if I choose not to?"

"Then you won't even remember this conversation."

She eyed him, "How do I know that is truth? That you aren't lying."

"You don't," he stated.

She considered this, "How will you make me forget?"

"I told you, that's not important right now."

She flinched, and he sighed, his arms sliding to her back, holding her close.

"It's your choice, Elena. Don't worry about the how or why. Just decide what you want from your life. Because you can walk away, right now, or you can choose option two."

Her mind reeled.

How was she supposed to agree to something when she wasn't even sure what she was agreeing on.

And what if it changed everything?

She swallowed.

But what if nothing ever changed.

What if these past few weeks were her life, every day, until she dies.

That thought was infinitely more scary than anything else she could think of.

And Damon was giving her a way out.

All she had to do was say...

"Yes."

Damon blinked, "Yes?"

She nodded, "I'm surely out of my mind, but you're right. I'll die if I keep going like this. Maybe not physically, but whatever this is that's waiting for me...it's not life."

Damon smirked, "So she _can_ think for herself."

Elena brushed off his teasing, deciding to take the first step in making her own choices, "She can."

And she kissed him.

She'd wanted to since the moment his eyes had pierced hers at the top of the staircase.

Since he'd first angered her and broken through the carefully crafted mask she'd made for herself.

So she kissed him, because it's what she wanted.

* * *

Damon's response was immediate.

He took her into his arms and devoured her lips.

It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

She'd been kissed before, stolen on chaperoned picnics by clumsy suitors, and even two or three times by Stefan.

Chaste, appropriate kisses, of course, which hadn't even been that enjoyable.

Nothing like this at all.

This was...fire.

Damon's mouth was everywhere.

Her face, her lips, her neck, she felt his teeth against her skin, and every part of her body was responding.

Her lips were prodded open with Damon's tongue, and she relaxed into him.

He was clearly more experienced, and knew how to take the lead better than herself, despite all she'd been taught about pleasing a husband. She blushed, remembering.

But Damon wasn't her husband.

He wasn't anything to her, really.

And the last person she could even consider pleasing in that way.

She was a virgin after all, preserved for the marriage bed.

For Stefan.

But she was tired of doing the right thing, just because she was supposed to.

She wanted Damon, and he had promised to open her eyes to a world of pleasure.

He was passion and heat, where Stefan would follow in the footsteps of all kings.

Call for her when he wanted her body, until she was pregnant with an heir. He would then take on a mistress, and she would only be called upon to produce more children.

So forget the marriage bed.

There was nothing pure awaiting her either way, and she wanted this.

Damon kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing with her own as his fingers squeezed her waist.

She pulled away, catching her breath.

"I can't breath in this dress."

"Corset?" He guessed, and she nodded.

He smirked, "Come here."

She let him walk her to the foot of his bed, where he commanded her to take off her shoes.

She did so, and felt the soft bear skin for the first time.

"Lie on the bed," Damon instructed.

Elena flushed, but did as she was told, using his hand to step up onto the chaise, and using it to climb onto the bed.

She laid back, wondering if she'd somehow reached heaven.

The mattress beneath her was the softest thing she'd ever felt, especially since it was covered it fur blankets and stitched quilts.

Damon hovered above her, and she swallowed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised, pulling out a small dagger.

She stiffened, but didn't protest as he brought it down to the front of her dress, directly between her breasts.

With a quick, skilled movement, he cut the fabric, then used his hands to tear it open.

Her breath quickened for a different reason now, as he cut through the fabric of her skirt and tossed the entire thing to the side.

She was left only in her corset and undergarment.

Damon's gaze roamed over her appreciatively, before telling her, "Hold very still."

She did so, and he brought the dagger back down.

This time the fabric was harder to cut through, but he managed.

Elena closed her eyes as she was revealed to him.

The first time a man had ever seen her this bare.

Damon exhaled as he removed the last bit of her clothes, and her eyes opened.

As naked as she'd been in birth, Elena lay beneath him, frozen.

Damon lifted himself, placing the dagger on the chaise below, then pulled his shirt from his body.

Elena had seen shirtless men before, in her father's army.

They had been dirty, barbaric, and battle worn.

Damon looked nothing like that.

His skin was pale, and flawless, the contours of his muscles bulging from beneath, and she couldn't stop herself from reaching up to touch him.

Damon was patient for a moment, letting her explore, but only for a moment.

His need for her was too pressing.

He kissed her again, checking her face for any doubts.

When none were found, he nuzzled the skin of her neck.

"When was your last bath?" He asked her.

She fought through the haze in her mind, "This evening, before the ball."

"They shaved you," he stated, impressed.

She blushed, "Weekly. My lady's maid insists that men prefer it."

Damon's hand spanned over her stomach.

"Elena," he exhaled, "As anyone ever touched you like this?"

She shook her head, and he smiled his approval, "Of course not. They'd want you to be the perfectly wrapped gift for your wedding night."

He touched the tip of her nipple, making her shudder, "Oh, it is going to be _fun_ to ruin you."

His mouth claimed hers then, and she tried to relax.

It was easy in theory, until his lips moved down and latched onto her nipple.

She cried out as an entirely new sensation ran through her body.

Damon's tongue swirled around her hardened bud, teasing her further.

She felt warmer than she should, and it didn't seem as though she'd be cooling off any time soon.

Not with his roaming hands setting her skin ablaze.

"Damon," she panted, not really knowing what she was asking for.

But he understood her silent plea as she grinded her legs together trying to relieve the pressure building there.

"Breathe, darling," he encouraged, "I'll take care of it, don't worry."

She relaxed under his hands, as they kneaded her breasts, while his mouth kissed down to her navel.

Then his hands slid to her waist, and he moved further down.

He used his shoulders to spread her legs for him, and she felt suddenly nervous at being that exposed to him.

This wasn't part of her lessons and she didn't know what to expect.

But when his head moved between her legs, she found out.

His tongue lapped at her, running up her center and she cried out.

This was beyond anything she ever imagined.

"Oh...my, ah...Damon!" She tried to breathe through what he was doing to her, but failed miserably.

His mouth was sucking now, his tongue delving inside of her, slurping up her body's response to him.

She felt a new heat stir inside her stomach and felt as if she'd explode if he continued.

She wiggled her hips, trying to warn him of it, but he only attacked her burning core with more eagerness, as if wanting her to fly off the edge.

She couldn't control the sounds pouring from her lips as he devoured her.

Ungodly moans of a wanton woman.

But it felt too good to care.

And just when she thought it couldn't get any better, he pushed a finger inside of her.

The intrusion was strange for an entire second before pleasure took control again.

His finger pumped her quickly, and whatever high she'd been climbing toward came crashing down as her body reached some kind of climatic release.

She convulsed, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled from her, leaving her breathless.

* * *

Damon pulled away so she could focus on inhaling.

When she finally reached some state of level headedness, she opened her eyes and found Damon's.

"What was that?"

He smiled, "Sex isn't just for the man, Elena."

She had heard that.

She knew it could be pleasurable for females too...it's just...

"I wasn't expecting it to feel like that," she told him.

He kissed her, and she could taste some of herself on him.

"There's a lot for you to learn," he promised, "And I'll show you everything."

Excitement filled, her and she sat up, "Show me how to please you, the way you have done for me."

He chucked deeply, "In time, darling, I promise. Right now, I want to be inside of you."

She turned red again, not used to such upfront speech.

Laying down, she spread her legs for him, as she'd been taught.

Damon however, took her hand.

"Not like that, Elena."

She sat up confused, "What's wrong?"

"I want you as a lover," he explained, "Not a sacrifice to be had."

"I do not know what I'm supposed to do," she admitted.

Damon sighed, then moved so that he was sitting with his back against the bed's oak frame.

He grabbed her hand and led her to his lap.

She straddled him, the way men straddled horses, and his hands fell to her hips.

"You just have to let go," he told her, "Don't think so much about what you are _supposed_ to do, and focus more on what you _want_ to do."

He kissed her left breast, then her right.

She closed her eyes, letting him take care of her, kissing and suckling her skin.

His hand moved to her hair and pulled out her pins, casting them aside.

She shook her head and her hair fell around her face in thick ringlets.

Damon tugged the ends playfully, before twisting the locks into his fist and pulling her hair back, exposing her neck to his view.

His eyes darkened, and she felt the heat swarm her stomach again.

His lips touched her skin.

He teased the base of her throat with a light brush of his teeth.

She shivered, the ache in her core, growing once more.

She wanted to feel that pleasure again.

Before she'd put too much thought into it, she pulled his head back, and kissed him deeply.

At her center, she could feel his manhood hardening, pressing into her.

Experimentally, she rotated her hips, and a delicious friction spread through her.

Damon groaned.

She set a steady motion, driving them both to madness as his hands squeezed her back bruisingly, and her mouth became desperate on his.

She reached down, urging him to remove his trousers, so they could consummate...whatever this was.

For a second, fear filled her again.

What would tomorrow mean for them?

Would Damon even acknowledge her?

Would he tell his father? Stefan?!

Was he some sadist who simply wanted her body, and used charms of the devil to tempt her to his bed?

Her stomach knotted, as she looked into the face of the eldest Salvatore prince.

Those glowing eyes, and delicate features.

Her body relaxed.

She couldn't help but trust him.

This was wrong, she knew it, but something in her stomach wouldn't let her pull away.

Not from Damon, despite how little sense it made.

After all, how could an advocate of the devil be the angel holding her key out of hell?

Because hell would be all she had, if she followed her father's commands.

But this, this night with Damon, it was hers alone.

And even if it was just this one night, she'd sleep soundly knowing she'd touched paradise.

* * *

She slid from Damon's body, letting him strip off the last of his clothes, until he hovered naked before her.

She swallowed, looking upon his manhood for the first time.

It wasn't what she'd pictured in her mind during lessons, but she remembered enough not to be intimidated.

He was of impressive size, but her body would stretch to accommodate his.

Her eyes drifted back to his, "This will hurt?"

He crawled over her, and she laid back as he settled between her thighs.

"Only for a moment," he promised.

She let her hands glide down his back, feeling each muscle contort beneath her fingers.

"Do it then."

He kissed her, just a brush of the mouth, before his lips began to form words.

They were too low for her to hear properly, but didn't sound like anything she'd heard before.

However, once she felt his tip at her entrance, it no longer mattered.

He pushed inside her slowly, spreading her, inch by inch, until he met the resistance of her maidenhead.

Her purity, perfectly intact.

His strange words quickened, as he paused, then kissed her, hard, touching their foreheads.

"Hold on to me," he warned in a breath, so she did, sliding her hands under his arms, gripping his shoulders.

He withdrew from her nearly completely, the friction causing her core to drip for him.

Then he thrusted into her, bringing their hips together in one fail swoop.

The pain was slicing, and Elena cried out, her nails digging into Damon's skin.

He didn't seem bothered by it though, as he pulled back again, before driving home.

She wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, that it hurt, but words escaped her.

Thoughts escaped her.

Damon's mouth came against her own, his tongue darting past her lips, it's strokes matching that of his hips.

A tear escaped her eye.

But as she was sure he planned, the pain subsided with each rock of Damon's body, the friction from before replacing it.

She waited a moment, to be sure the pain had left, then hesitantly lifted her hips to meet Damon's thrust.

He growled approvingly, quickening his pace, to the point that she couldn't keep up.

And she didn't even care, as a new wave of pleasure built, more intense than before.

It was so close she could taste it.

"Damon," she breathed, "More."

He smirked at her, before dropping his head to her neck, and wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her hips from the bed.

She reached a new high as he pounded into her body, no longer restricted, his arms pulling her down onto him as he thrusted into her.

The explosion happened much faster this time, and shook her entire body with its tremors.

Her head fell back and a string of obscenities she didn't even know existed in her vocabulary spewed from her lips.

Damon moaned as well, a primal growl reverberating his chest, as he started murmuring those same foreign words.

He stumbled through them as his body faltered, and he hardened further inside of her.

His hands tightened on her waist and a groan filled her ear.

Suddenly, something warm and wet filled her, and she knew he'd reached his point of pleasure.

After a few last sporadic pumps, Damon pulled out of her body, leaving her feeling strangely empty.

And dangerously satisfied.

He rolled from her, laying out on the opposite side of the bed, pulling her into his side.

She smiled as her heartbeat returned to normal, and decided that this night with the forgotten prince was the best mistake she'd ever made.

* * *

** So basically just a smut chapter lol.**

**Your welcome ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Updated late, but thus chapter is super long lol.**

**Hope y'all forgive me, and like it!**

**Oh, and sadly I will be out of town for a week or so starting on Saturday, so my posts/updates may be a little irregular.**

**Sorry!**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena sat in her room, watching the clock.

It read 9:20.

The sun had long gone down, she'd told Jenna she was turning in early, and now had about half an hour to decide if she was really going to do this.

Two weeks ago, not a chance in hell.

But ever since the comet had reached the sky, she'd felt different.

Out of place.

The dreams had only added to that feeling.

And then the questions of the necklace.

So much didn't add up, but she felt like it might have to do with her birth parents, and if for whatever reason, her dreams were leading her to this man, maybe he knew something.

He certainly knew her.

She flushed with embarrassment, remembering the kiss.

Her lips were still tingling, and for some strange reason, the sensation was familiar.

He was familiar, and in more ways than just her having dreamt of him.

The world had literally faded when she laid eyes on him, and whatever feeling that had come over her, compelling her to kiss him, it was strong.

Intimidating strong.

Unfightable.

She took a deep breath.

The point was, she needed answers, and he seemed to have them.

She couldn't explain it, and hell, she didn't want to, but she knew she had to go tonight.

She had to know what he knew.

* * *

Damon had arrived early.

He'd wanted the time to prepare himself, and frankly, he had nowhere better to be.

He stared out at the rubble.

This was home, after all.

This was what remained.

Elena's prophecy had come to pass then.

Their death had brought the end of Aurelia, and she had fallen to the fire.

Part of him wished he could've seen it burn.

The other half couldn't wait until Elena was once again at his side, up to full power. They'd raise Aurelia from the ashes, starting with the castle.

But they would need blood.

Lots of it.

* * *

"By God, it really is you," a voice called from behind.

Damon straightened, recognizing it all too well.

He smirked, turning.

"Hello, brother."

Stefan's face was a stone scowl.

"A little late on the welcoming, Damon. I've caught glimpses of you all week."

"Is that so? Hmm. I suppose we're skipping the formalities then?"

Stefan took a step closer to him.

"I know what you want, Damon. I've waited half of a millennium for her, for you. I won't let you do this."

"You can't stop me," Damon assured him, confidently, "Our spell worked, Stefan. I bought my future with our father's blood, and Elena's powers are of equal mass. You impose no threat to us."

Stefan held his gaze, "Elena is not what you remember, Damon. She's good. She's happy. If you truly love her, don't ruin this life for her. Don't get her killed again."

Damon growled, stepping forward, "It wasn't me that sentenced her to burn, brother. You're lucky she doesn't remember that little detail."

"You stained her," Stefan argued, "Spoiled her soul with your blasphemy. I knew that wherever you turned up, you'd destroy her there as well. So I found her first."

"Right. Did you want to explain how you survived the fire? Oh, and the passing centuries, while you're at it."

Stefan smirked, "I have you to thank, actually. It was mother's talisman, the amulet, the diamond filled with her blood. Elena wore it to the stake."

Damon sighed, understanding, "It protected itself from the fire."

"I found it among your ashes," Stefan confirmed, "And I kept it, to remind me of what I'd lost."

"Touching," Damon mocked.

Stefan shot him a look, but continued, "I didn't realize it was changing me. All I knew was that I was enraged. You killed our father, ruined my fiance, and left me to carry Aurelia alone. When King Petrova attacked...We crumbled, and I wanted to die. I had nothing left."

"Skip to the end," Damon urged, "I don't have all night."

"The amulet fed from my rage, my hopelessness," Stefan amended, annoyed, "My one desire was to live long enough to ruin your new life, as you had ruined mine. So the amulet changed me."

With a flash of his teeth, veins ran under Stefan's eyes, and Damon did a double take.

"A creature of the night," he mused, "The only true immortal being. That necklace must be more powerful than even I realized."

Then he remembered where he lay saw it.

"If you knew this, why is Elena wearing it?"

Stefan crossed his arms, "You know, living alone for so many years can really put things into perspective. I came here, everyday, to the place the two of you burned. I knew one of you would show eventually.

It took nearly five hundred years, but she finally did. Now, imagine my surprise when a flash of light left an infant behind."

"An infant?" Damon pressed.

"A baby," Stefan nodded, "I later realized what the two of you had done. Elena was burned during the comet of Auroras Borealis, at the age of seventeen. Now, is it so shocking that a baby turns up exactly seventeen years before the next time the comet passes? I knew what that meant. I knew you'd follow her, as soon as the comet had aligned again. And here you are."

"And here I am," Damon taunted, "But that doesn't explain why she has the amulet."

"I left it with her that night, hoping it would protect her. Then a couple found her, and she was lost to me. I waited until she was older before entering her life. I knew I had to before you did. Otherwise you'd ruin her again."

"You speak as though you care," Damon smirked, stepping closer, "Like you truly believe the Elena you thought existed is still alive."

"She is," Stefan assured him, "I've watched her for years, Damon. She's innocent, pure. Nothing left of the past to blacken her new slate."

Damon laughed lowly, running the tips of his fingers over his lips as he recalled their kiss, "I'm sure you're right, Stefan. I'm sure she's completely redeemed, and your heroics will spare her the eternal damnation you believe is awaiting me."

"Do not mock me, Damon," Stefan warned, "I meant what I said. I won't let you ruin her again."

"You aren't strong enough to stop me," Damon hissed, beginning to grow annoyed.

"Perhaps," Stefan allowed, though his fangs elongated slightly, "But remember that we're both monsters now, Damon."

"You are a mutilated perversion of one," Damon spat, reaching out and grabbing his brother's shoulder, digging into the skin there with his nails, drawing blood.

With little effort, he forced Stefan to his knees.

The youngest Salvatore groaned under the pressure.

Damon felt the power rise in him, as he drained the witch magic from Stefan's body, through the smear of red on his fingertips.

"What are you doing to me?" Stefan choked, weakening.

Damon released him, and waited until Stefan had climbed to his feet, before gloating, "Come now, brother, you know the legend, as well as I."

Slowly, he licked the blood from his fingers, "What you are...it within itself is a spell. Your entire existence is made up of a fuel for my strength. You can't beat me," he lowered his tone warningly.

"And yet, I can't allow you to go through with this."

Damon's mouth twitched in annoyance, "You speak boastful words, but need I remind you further of what I've done?"

He smirked, "Is my presence here not proof of my power? I have no limitations. Now, do you really wish to be the obstacle standing between me and what I want?"

Stefan scowled, "What you want no longer exists. She's not what she was."

"Then I'll take her how she is," Damon spat, "Our love survived death itself! What are you, compared to that?"

Stefan stood his ground, "This isn't over, and I've made my vow."

Damon laughed, "And now I make mine. This has only just begun, brother. So enjoy the remainder of your time with her. For Elena's heart is already claimed. Remember that, the next time you are with her...now, leave me. I tire of this fight."

Unable to do anything else, Stefan cursed, "I will find a way to stop you."

"I look forward to it," Damon smirked, and Stefan disappeared, his scent fading with the wind.

Damon chuckled in his absence, enjoying the power coursing through him.

It would be just what he needed tonight, when trying to convince Elena of the truth.

* * *

Elena dimmed her headlights as she took the turn onto the unpaved road that lead to the castle's ruins.

The darkness of the night around her seemed thicker than usual as the road weaved her through a thicket of woods.

This is stupid.

She had told herself so a million times.

But her curiosity had won out.

Whatever was going on, whatever these dreams are, she had to know.

And who better to get answers from than the man who had haunted her subconscious for weeks now.

If he even showed.

If he was even real, and not a figment of her imagination.

She took a deep breath, and made a final turn off the side road, and her tires hit the gravel of earth.

Her heart sped up as light was casted onto the ruins.

Even in the poor illumination of her headlights, she could see every detail of him, standing there.

Dark, and still, with his hands in his jacket pocket, he waited; eyes focused.

Elena took a few settling inhales, before steeling herself, killing the ignition, and opening the door.

But she left the lights on to see him.

A smile, that was almost cocky, cascaded across Damon's face as she stepped out of her car and walked toward him.

He didn't move to greet her.

He just waited, his gaze following her every step.

* * *

Once she came within his proximity, she felt it again.

The same aching, mind numbing want from before.

Only this time, she'd expected it, and fought against whatever it was telling her to touch him, to kiss him, to lose control.

Damon watched, amused, as she waged her internal battle, as if he too could feel whatever this was.

She met his gaze, refusing to allow this pull to distract her.

"You're here," she started.

Damon smiled slowly, and her battle was almost lost.

"As are you," he noted, "As I knew you would be."

She huffed, "Yeah, want to tell me how that is exactly?"

He removed his hands from his jacket, extending an arm to her, "All in due time."

She swallowed, not sure if she should give in quite yet.

How bad did she really want answers?

Bad enough.

With a sigh, she looped her arms through his, making up her mind.

She had to know.

Heat flashed through her at his touch, but she managed to ignore it.

Damon escorted her across the rubble, a few yards back, over to where a stone archway still stood, weathered by time and storms, barely within the range of her headlights.

Damon placed his free hand on it, his eyes closing.

She was surprised to see a sorrowful look pass over his expression.

"Damon?" She called after a moment of silence.

Burning blue orbs looked over at her.

"It's a shame really," he stated quietly, "that you don't remember."

"Remember what?" Elena urged, her hand slipping up to finger her necklace, a habit that arose when she was nervous.

She found it warm again.

Damon followed the motion, his hand grazing hers as he lifted the amulet from her skin.

"Have you ever been in love, Elena?" he asked, eyes on her necklace.

Her brows pulled together.

What kind of question was that?

He looked up at her expectantly, and she cleared her throat.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose," she blushed, thinking of Stefan, and the way she'd let Damon kiss her before.

"You suppose?" He smirked, dropping the amulet so it could once again fall to place on her chest, even warmer.

"Yeah, I suppose," she confirmed, "I've had boyfriends before, and I've loved each of them in a way. But I'm only seventeen. It's not like I have to look for a lifetime commitment."

"A school house boyfriend constitutes to love, does it?" Damon asked her, a look similar to annoyance upon his face, "Tell me, has a single one of them made your skin crawl with just their lips upon your neck? Can they steal away your breath with a simple kiss?"

He stepped closer to her, but she was so enraptured by the passion in his voice and the fire of his eyes, that she hardly noticed, "Tell me, my sweet Elena, can any of those _children_ stir in you an insatiable desire for a love that even time will bow down and be still for?"

Her mouth seemed very dry as he spoke.

She swallowed, once, then twice, and Damon smirked, "I didn't think so."

Elena felt a strange urge to fight against his self-assuredness, to tell him he was wrong.

But no one, not even Stefan, had ignited in her the feelings he described.

Feelings so close to breaking through now, as she stared at this man.

But that wasn't why she'd come.

"I don't care what you think of my love life," she said, lifting her chin, "I met with you tonight for answers, not riddles."

He eyed her, before nodding, "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Everything, she thought, but knew she'd have to be more specific.

"I've been dreaming about you. Why?"

Damon studied her, then asked, "First, tell me what you dream about."

Elena blushed, recalling her more recurring visions of the two of them.

"Well?" Damon taunted, as if he already knew.

"I'm not sure," she answered semi-honestly, "It all runs together, but certain things stand out. Like the fire, and blood, and...you."

She glanced at him, waiting for another sly remark, but found instead, his darkening eyes.

She felt his fingers gliding across her waist then, and her breath caught.

"And what happens in these dreams, Elena?"

His voice was like melted silk, compelling answers from her against her will, "You have me drink blood as we make love. It covers me, and you. All over our skin. And you lick it off of me."

Damon's eyes were magnets, pulling her closer against him as words poured from her lips.

The necklace at her throat grew hot.

"Other times, I'm tied to a bed, naked. You have knives, and you cut me, but I _like_ it. Then you say strange words and the cuts heal."

Her back was against the stone arch now, and Damon was as close as he could be, hips pressing against her, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"More," he breathed, "Tell me more."

She exhaled, his scent filling her nostrils in a familiar way.

Again, she couldn't help but answer. Couldn't deny him what he so clearly wanted.

"I dream of killing. I don't know why, but I do. It's like I watch through my own eyes as I slice the necks of strangers. And they're always dressed differently, like from a medieval movie or something. I carve out their hearts, or watch as you do, and we wrap them up."

She swallowed, "When we're done, we burn the bodies, then go back to the room with the bed. There's always this bear claw tub, filled with warm water, by a fireplace, and we get in it. You unwrap the heart, and blood starts dripping into the water. Then...you eat it. We eat it."

By this point, Damon's hands had wrapped around her wrists, holding them against the stone, above her head. His head was nuzzled into her neck, and his body was hard against hers, restricting movement.

"Damon," she exhaled, another wave of desire washing over her, as she felt his pressed against her stomach.

She tried to remember that she shouldn't allow this to happen.

Aside from her dreams, this man was a stranger.

And if she was judging him based off her dreams, she should be terrified.

The man in her dreams was a monster, a murder.

She shouldn't be feeling like this toward him.

But then Damon sucked on her skin, and she moaned, all thoughts clearing.

Whatever power this man held over her body, it was winning.

She wanted him with a ferocity that would have intimidated her, had she been in a rational mind set.

But she wasn't.

So instead, she pulled his head up, and connected their lips.

He released her wrists to grip her waist, and her hands immediately began clawing at his shoulders, needing him closer.

She couldn't explain the feelings radiating from her as she helped him remove his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

Lust, perhaps, but there was something more.

As she looked into his eyes, she knew him.

Intimately.

His body was a siren call, and she couldn't refuse him, as he attacked her lips again.

The truth of that excited her as much as it terrified her.

But not as much as her next realization.

Not only did she _know_ Damon, but she trusted him.

In this moment, would die for him.

Kill for him.

She..._loved_ him.

* * *

With a hard shove, Elena forced Damon off of her.

He stumbled back a step, eyes wide, shirt disarrayed and hair tasseled.

She fought to catch her breath.

"What are you doing to me?" She demanded, her voice shaking.

Damon smirked, "Nothing you're not begging for."

She gave him a cold stare, "Don't toy with me, and answer the question."

"I'm not doing anything," he assured her.

"Then why do I feel like this?" She asked, still breathing heavily, "I don't even know you. I have a boyfriend. There's no reason I should..."

He had taken a step forward, and the heat returned, "I shouldn't...want...This."

She was in his arms again, their mouths connected.

He kissed her longingly, agonizingly.

When his lips shifted to her chin, she gasped.

The air unfogged her mind, but only slightly.

"No!" She turned, forcing him to let go of her, "Don't touch me."

He obliged, letting her shake her head, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

The air between them had only helped a little.

He must have picked up on the desperate panic in her voice.

"I'll tell you everything," he promised, his lips swollen, "But it's going to be difficult to believe."

"Tell me," she demanded.

He eyed her, then nodded.

"Alright. To answer your first question, those aren't dreams you've been having. Their memories of the past, trying to break through your subconsciousness and remind you of who you are."

Elena felt a shiver run through her body.

"And who am I?"

Damon's eyes held hers as he took a step closer.

"Your birthed name is Petrova. Eleniana Petrova, to be exact. But you always preferred to be called Elena."

She thought back to where she'd heard that name before, and swallowed.

"Petrova...As in the royal family that ruled Mystic until the late fifteen hundreds?"

Damon nodded, "Your father was king. You, his one and only heir."

She laughed disbelievingly.

"Right, I'm the princess of an ancient kingdom."

"You are," he told her, "Even if you don't remember."

She shook her head, "Uh Huh, wait, I've heard this story. Let me guess, you're the prince I was sent to marry, coming back from the dead to claim his bride."

Damon cocked his head to the side, "You think I'm joking?"

She stared at him, "Considering that it's impossible for me to have been alive during Mystic's monarch, nearly five hundred years ago, yeah, I'd say you're joking."

He smirked, "I told you it was hard to believe."

"No," she corrected, "There's hard to believe, and then there's impossible. Those dreams, visions, or whatever, can't be memories. That would be impossible."

"And yet, you know it's not," Damon urged, "You know there's more to it than that. You've seen it in your dreams. The blood, the magic. You know what it's capable of."

She huffed, "So you're telling me that all of it really happened, then? That you are some sadistic murderer, that eats human hearts? That you have powers and somehow, they've allowed us to live 500 years outside our time? Come on."

He pursed his lips, "You warned me that you'd be different. That it may be hard to convince you of the truth. But yes, Elena. That's exactly what I'm telling you. You lived in a time where the power wasn't hidden as it is today, and you wielded it perfectly, using it to become the weapon I always knew you could be."

"I didn't kill innocent people," she protested.

"No, you _slaughtered_ them," Damon mused, "Without a second thought. You were the most dangerous beauty I'd ever seen."

"Why would i do that?" She whispered, paling, "Why would I kill them?

She wouldn't, right?

But then why did the dreams feel so real?

"Because I told you to," Damon smirked, "And you loved me."

Elena swallowed, remembering the feelings that had overcome her earlier, "This isn't real."

"Oh, it's very real, my darling," he declared, "Can you not feel it? We killed for the power the blood gave us, for the sacrifice magic requires."

Elena stumbled backwards, toward her car, "You're insane."

Damon sighed, "I should have guessed you'd make this difficult."

She bolted then, sprinting towards her car.

Damon was waiting in front of the door when she got there.

Her eyes widened, "How did you-"

"I told you," he interrupted, "Magic. Now, don't run from me. It's rude."

"It's...this _can't_ be real," Elena breathed again, almost to herself.

"Keep telling yourself that," Damon chuckled, "You think it's a coincidence that you began having these dreams just as the comet of Aurora Borealis entered Earth's atmosphere? That I'm suddenly here, and you know me to your core?"

Elena swallowed, unable to deny it, "What does the comet have to do with this?"

"It's what our spell was bound to, Elena. The night my brother ordered for us to burn at the stake, the comet touched the full moon. The same night I drained my father of his blood; the sacrifice of the patricide sealing the magic for our spell. You died that night, at the age of seventeen, and appeared in these woods, exactly seventeen years before the next pass of the comet."

Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Even worse, she couldn't believe that she was starting to think it may be true.

It made too much sense.

* * *

"If that's true, why didn't it do the same to you?" She demanded.

"The spell was made for one," Damon hurried to explain, "We were arrogant, and filled with magic. We convinced ourselves that we could pull it off for both of us."

"Why?" she asked, "Why go through all the trouble?"

"Because it's the only way we could be together," he explained, lifting a hand to her cheek, "You were given to my brother as nothing more than a bargaining tool. They'd have never let us be together, despite the fact that I was Aurelia's true heir. So you used your powers, and saw what was to come. You saw Aurelia burn with our deaths, and a way for us to live again. To be together and resurrect Aurelia from her ashes."

She blinked remembering flashes of fire and pain.

"You're being serious?"

He nodded, "I wouldn't lie about this, Elena. Not to you."

She held his gaze, "We just heard the story in class. And if what you said is true, then you are the Salvatore prince. The one the princess...that _I_...fell in love with?"

Damon nodded, "Precisely."

Elena swallowed, grabbing her necklace, "You're the voice from my dream then, the one that gave me this?"

Again, Damon nodded, "It was my mother's. She is as I am. A Shadowcaster."

"A Shadowcaster?" Elena tried the word.

"Born witches can create their own magic," Damon explained, "It runs in their veins. Shadowcasters only practice the arts of blood magic. We can't create it."

"Which is why you need witches blood," Elena concluded.

Damon nodded, "After being trained, a Shadowcaster can drain the magic from any source of life, with a single touch of its blood. The heart, however, as the witches life force, is stronger than any other outlet."

"What does the necklace have to do with it?" Elena asked.

"It's all the magic my mother possessed before her death. Her life source, her blood, engraved into a diamond pendant. Creating it drained her, but wearing it saved me as a child on the brink of death. It's also given my brother a foothold to this century."

Elena blinked, "You're brother? The younger prince? He's here?"

Damon smirked, "He's here alright. Does the name Stefan ring any bells?"

Elena's mouth fell open.

No.

That's impossible.

Right?

* * *

** Lol a little bit of a cliffhanger.**

**I love love the next chapter, and can't wait to finish and post it as well!**

**Hope you guys liked this one!**

**Let me know whatcha thought.**

**Damon/Stefan argument.**

**Delena make out scene...**

**Where her feelings are coming from...**

**Elena learning the truth**

**The necklace...**

**Review review! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Heyy guys! Sorry about the long wait! I was out of town, then I got sick. :P**

**No fun...but anyway, I hope this update makes up for it. **

**And on a positive note, I got to upgrade my phone to the new GS6 Edge, which has made writing spoon much easier!**

**XOXO**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Damon held Elena against his chest, her back to him in the iron bath.

He'd put out all lights besides the fire burning under the mantle.

His heart swelled as she nestled her head into his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth.

There was a difference between seeing the future and experiencing it.

And he never could have imagined this.

He'd taken her virginity tonight.

The ultimate blood sacrifice she could ever relent to him.

And she had no clue...not yet.

But she would.

He'd had visions of the future, had seen the power she'd come to possess, and the love he'd come to feel for her.

Elena Petrova, his brother's betrothed.

He unlatched an arm from her middle, and brought it up above the water.

His hand trailed over her skin, up her ribcage, between her breasts.

Bruises had formed along her collarbone, and he made a mental note to fix that before she left.

No need to have questions raised.

"Do you regret coming tonight?" He asked her quietly.

She hadn't said much to him since he'd led her to the tub.

"No," she admitted, but her voice sounded far away.

"Then what troubles you?" He pressed.

His question brought her attention back, and she turned her head to look at him.

"I've just realized that tonight...It's the first time in years I've done something for me. Something that I wanted, that was rash and irresponsible. And I am afraid that come morning...this feeling will leave me. That I'll come to proper sense and hide myself away again, put back on the mask they've made for me."

Damon gently turned her, drawing her into his lap.

When her deep brown eyes settled on his, he cupped her cheek, "I won't let that happen."

She blinked, "Promise?"

Instead of answering, he brought his lips down, claiming a kiss.

She opened for him eagerly, and he smiled against her mouth.

"You are much too beautiful to be locked away, like the family jewels, and much too smart to be adorned as one."

She smirked, "I mustn't be too terribly smart, if I allowed myself to be seduced by you, my prince."

Damon was lost in her sparkling eyes, "On the contrary, Princess, it is you who's seducing me."

A blush tainted her cheeks, as she bit her lip, "Then I offer my sincerest apologies. Tis a cruel thing, to play a man's heart."

Damon chuckled deeply, "Just as cruel to love a woman's body, yet to be unable to hold her at night."

Elena's brows pulled together, "Can't I stay?"

Damon ran a finger across her cheek, "For a while longer. But I fear our time together will be cut short if our transgressions are discovered. Your father will be looking for you."

Elena sighed, "I'm sure you're right."

* * *

Moving to stand, she carefully stepped from the tub, giving Damon a spectacular view as she wrapped a drying cloth around herself.

But instead of looking for her dress, she walked across the room, to the wall holding his full bodied mirror.

He stood from the bath as she inspected herself.

"In truth, our sins may be obvious," she sighed, "You've left quite a few marks."

Damon came up behind her, having wrapped his own towelette around his waist.

He breathed deeply as her long fingers ran across her skin.

"I can help with those," he told her, "But I'll need you to trust me."

She turned, facing him, "I thought I already was."

He smirked, "This is more complex."

She sighed deeply, and moved to his chaise.

"Is this where you finally explain your plan to save me? Or were those simply boasts to find your way under my dress?"

"I meant what I've said," he promised her, "But you mustn't be fearful, or nothing I do will matter."

He sat next to her, and wasn't entirely shocked when she nodded at him, "I trust you."

He smiled, "Then give me your hand."

She did so, extending her palm.

He reached over and grabbed his fallen dagger.

"This may sting; just a pinch," he warned, before scraping the tip across her skin.

Blood pooled in her hand from the cut, and Damon placed his own over the wound.

Chanting lowly, he recalled the words he'd used a million times, and Elena's hand began to heal.

He repeated the incantation, until he could no longer sense her wound.

He slid his hand under hers, bringing it to his mouth, and sucked away the remaining blood.

Instead of the horrified expression he'd expected, Elena's eyes were full of awe.

"You practice the craft," she mused, "I suppose I should have suspected that before. That was a spell you spoke earlier, was it not?"

He cocked his head to the side, "It was. To insure my seed did not take hold and leave you with child."

She seemed surprised by the thought, and he smiled, "You know of the craft?"

She flushed again, but nodded, "My lady's maid, Emily. She's a born witch. I've protected her secret from my father for years, and in return, she is loyal to me."

Damon smirked, "Yes, I don't imagine good King Petrova would take too kindly to witches in his castle."

Elena sighed, "Men like my father tend to be small of mind. I love him, of course, but he is not open to possibilities."

"And you are?" Damon breathed.

Elena smirked, "I came with you tonight, didn't I?"

"Yes," Damon noted, "But there's a difference in rebellion, and breaking the law."

"Magic shouldn't be against the law," Elena protested, "That's the first thing to change, once I'm queen."

Damon rose a brow, "Assuming Stefan permits it."

Elena blinked, then swallowed, "That's a detail to worry about later."

Damon laughed, "Well, then let us worry about the issues at hand."

He rubbed her marks, and she nodded, standing so he could fully inspect her.

* * *

Within minutes, her skin was free from any blemish.

"What about here?" She asked him, moving her hand to cup her sex.

"It is still sore from your intrusion."

Damon smirked at her, placing his hand over hers, moving their fingers together over her clit.

"The pain will fade in a day or two, but I would have it remain until then. I want you to feel it as you move tomorrow, and know that I was here, inside of you."

He stroked her center, her own hand falling away so he could take control, and she moaned.

"Damon..."

He brought his mouth against her neck.

"I will have you again, Elena," he promised, "I will fuck your body until you no longer feel the soreness in the morning after."

He delved a finger into her, "And I will ruin you for any other man. I will pleasure you in ways that are unparalleled, not able to be competed with, until you beg for me...until the only cock you can stand to have inside of you, is mine."

His words had the desired effect on her, and she peaked, convulsing around his fingers in pleasure.

When she calmed, he slipped out of her.

Her hazing gaze met his, "That shouldn't take long."

He grinned, "We shall see."

Her body relaxed into him then, and he kissed her head.

"I want you to dream of me tonight," he whispered, "I want you to dream about this."

She nodded, looking up at him.

He placed a final kiss to her lips, letting them linger.

Then he sighed, "I suppose we should get you to your bed, before someone comes searching."

"That's probably best," she agreed, before looking to the floor, "Except, you've ruined my gown."

Damon smirked, moving to pick up the fabric, "Please, Princess, what's the point of having magic if you don't use it?"

With a wave of his hand, the dress became whole again.

And just soon enough, too, as he felt himself being drained.

He'd need more blood soon; more magic.

He helped Elena into the gown, forgoing the corset at her insistence, and helped her lace the back.

Other than her damp hair, twisted to her head with the pins, she looked no different than when she'd arrived.

"Perfect," he complimented, "Now come, I'll show you the way back."

She nodded, taking the hand he'd outstretched to her, and he led her from the room.

* * *

Elena awoke with the sun that next morning, blinking as her curtains were drawn.

Emily was by her side then, with a cup of tea, "Morning, your highness."

Elena sat up, smiling at her, "Good morning."

Emily handed her the glass, and walked over to the closet, to pick out Elena's dress for the day.

"Your father leaves today," the witch reminded her, "Though he's considered postponing his departure until you are well."

Elena grew confused, "Until I'm well?"

"Of course," Emily stated, having found a dress, "You turned ill, and left the party early. Or so I told their majesties and his highness when they asked."

Elena smirked, "Thank you, my friend."

Emily nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, "Yes, my lady, but if it's not too bold of me to say, his Lord Stefan is a good match for you. Polite and respectable. But I don't think he'd take too kindly to you fooling with his brother."

Elena blushed, "How did you know I was with Damon?"

"Tis my job to watch over you, Miss," Emily explained, "I saw you leave shortly after the prince did."

Elena took a sip of her tea, "Yes, well, I'd have that truth remain between us."

She stood as Emily nodded, "Yes, your highness."

"Good," Elena smiled, eyeing herself in her mirror, "Now if you would, help me dress. I'd see my father off."

"Of course, my lady."

The dress was simple, after last night's gown, but Elena didn't mind, seeing as it didn't require a corset.

It covered her arms, and up to her neck, making her look every bit the respectable princess she was supposed to be.

But she couldn't shake the feelings that had overcome her last night.

Physically she looked the same as yesterday, but in her heart, she felt different.

And it felt good.

She smiled at her reflection as Emily began twisting her hair up.

"No, wait," she protested, remembering Damon's fingers combing through her locks, "Today, I'd have it loose."

A look of surprise crossed her maid's face, but she said nothing, simply trading the pins for the brush.

"How's that, your highness?" She asked after a moment.

Elena smirked, admiring the soft curls, "Perfect."

* * *

Her father, along with King Salvatore and Stefan, were already at the dining room table when she entered the grand room.

Each of the men stood upon her arrival, Stefan moving to greet her.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, looping an arm through hers.

"Much better this morning," she smiled kindly, "I think perhaps I was just overheated last night."

"I'm pleased you are feeling well again."

He pulled a chair out for her, and she sat down.

Her body twinged, as an unfamiliar soreness tore through her core at the hardened seat.

In a flash, she recalled all of Damon's words, and had to fight a blush, as well as a wave of guilt.

She didn't regret her decision, but she did find it unfortunate that she was betraying the trust of everyone at the table.

Especially Stefan, who would be hurt most if her indiscretions ever came to light.

She started on a topic to distract herself.

"You're returning to Mystic today, Father?"

The king nodded, "I fear I've been too long absent already. But not to worry, dear. I'll return for the holidays."

Elena nodded, and her father fixed his stare on her, "I trust you'll continue your studies in my absence. Prepare yourself for the coronation this spring?"

Elena smiled convincingly, "Of course."

"She'll learn much here," King Salvatore promised her father, "As our future queen, I'll extend nothing but the best instructors."

"Be sure and have sessions prepared for parliament," her father suggested, "My poor wife could never quite grasp the works of politics, and I would not see Eleniana struggle similarly."

And just like that, the conversation turned, as it usually did, to the men deciding her future.

Elena knew better than to interrupt.

They could plan all they wanted, and school her in any way they pleased.

She'd play along.

But behind closed doors, the choices were her own, and Damon awaited.

The nights she'd spend with him would be her decision.

Her secret.

And no one would take that away.

* * *

**Hope ya'll enjoyed! **

**Can't wait to read the reviews :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys! Again, sorry for the wait, but my sickness came back with a vengeance!**

**But I am writing these as fast aa I am able, so hopefully the next chapter will be quicker :)**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_**Present day**_

* * *

Damon was burning through his magic faster than usual, trying to keep a tab on each vibe released from Elena's body.

The conversation was going about as well as he'd expected, but at least she hadn't ran off yet.

"Stefan?" She swallowed, "_My_ Stefan?"

He flinched at those words, making a mental note to skin his brother alive.

"Stefan is my brother," he confirmed.

She shook her head, but he was already in touch with each wave of her essence.

It was reluctant, but part of her believed him.

"How do I know that you're telling the truth?" She asked finally.

He smiled at a memory, "You don't...But I can show you."

Her eyes met his, "With...magic?"

He nodded, "But I'm limited. You'll have to choose what you'd like me to show you."

She swallowed, "Show me proof. Show me something that backs up your story."

Damon thought through her words and decided on the more vivid memory.

The night they died.

"Give me your hand," he instructed.

She hesitated, but eventually did as he asked, extending her arm.

He pulled out the pocket knife he'd found at his cabin.

"This will hurt," he warned, before slicing her hand.

Then did the same to his own.

"Place your palm against mine," he told her.

Elena paused, "...You don't have AIDS, right?"

He cocked his head, "What?"

"Nothing," she shook off her worries, before doing as he'd told her.

The second their blood met, Damon felt a jolt spur through him.

Such was the potency of Petrova blood.

He interlaced their fingers, and Elena gasped, feeling the magic flow between them.

"Close your eyes."

She did so, and he started the spell.

Leaves swirled at their feet, and a familiar pain began pounding in his head.

It was working.

Elena inhaled, as he drew the memory forward, letting it take over his consciousness.

* * *

_He's in chains._

_Elena runs into the room._

_She admits to knowing of the murders, and singlehandedly kills the captain of the guard, and drinks him._

_Her power grows with the blood, her mind alone strong enough to keep the others off of her._

_Once the captain is emptied, she succumbs to the chains, knowing what must be done._

_They are led out, and soon, Stefan is before them._

_Damon recalls the argument, and Elena's boast, of rising again, of power, of love._

_Stefan sentences them to death._

_Now they are on the platform, tied to each other, tied to the stake._

_The comet is in place._

_They kiss._

_The guard lights the fire._

_The last thing he knows of the world is the bite of the flame, the smell of boiling flesh, and Elena's screams, as death takes them._

* * *

Damon was snapped from the memory as Elena ripped her hand away.

Her eyes blazing, as her body shook, "That was real, wasn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

She took a breath, and silence echoed around them.

"Oh God," she exhaled.

Damon barely moved fast enough to catch her, as her body finally gave out, having taken on more than she was ready for.

She lay faint in his arms, and he knew what he had to do.

Carrying her back to her car, he laid her in the back seat, before climbing behind the wheel.

In his preparation for life in the twenty-first century, he'd drained every thought from Amelia the night he'd met her.

With a simple, yet powerful, touch, he'd seen her life through her eyes.

Fundamentally, he knew how a vehicle worked.

Practically, he'd never driven one.

He tried to remember that specific time in Amelia's life, and managed to start the ignition.

Next, he put the car into reverse.

As the tires began rolling, he eased.

This wasn't too complicated.

He turned the tires accordingly, until the traction shifted, and he was back on the path that led to the main road.

He focused, glad that it was late, so he didn't have to worry about other drivers.

* * *

It didn't take long to get to the cabin, and he parked the car successfully, before carrying Elena inside.

He laid her on the couch, figuring she'd feel safer there, than in a bed, and went to the kitchen to wet a cloth.

After placing it on Elena's forehead, he moved to start a fire.

It was a little cold out, and he wanted her comfortable.

He had just added the last log when she began to stir, though didn't quite wake up.

He moved to her side, pulling up a stool to sit on.

She was so beautiful, even unconscious.

His hand pressed the cool rag against her forehead, as he admired the changes in her form.

This Elena was more firm, muscles developed from sports, more than likely, and her hair was cut in layers, shorter than it had been in the past, though not by much.

She also wore make up, which made her already long lashes thick and dark, as they curved over the top of her cheek.

He removed the wet cloth, to stroke her skin.

It was as soft as his memory served, and his touch seemed to awaken her further.

She groaned, and moved a little, before her eyes fluttered open.

She blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then sat up.

Her gaze shifted around the room, to the fire, and finally, to him.

When her eyes met his, the energy from her body pulsated, emotions pouring out.

He felt her confusion at the location fade as her desire for him took over.

Like before, it was a flash of hot lust, begging him to connect their bodies.

Her hand reached up, gripping the amulet, as she swallowed.

"Where are we?"

He straightened, "My cabin, just beyond the falls. You fainted."

She blinked, as if trying to remember how much of the night was real, and how much she'd hoped was a dream.

"So," she turned, slipping her legs over the edge of the couch, "All of that really happened?"

He nodded slowly, "It's a lot to take in."

"That's an understatement."

Her breathing evened out a little, "You said Stefan was a part of this. That he was your brother...does he know? About me? About the dreams, and...whatever this is?"

Damon weighed his answer, "He knows who you are. He knows I've returned, and he knows that this doesn't end well for him. What he doesn't know is that you and I have already spoken."

Elena's eyes focused, "What do you mean, this ends badly for him?"

Damon sighed, placing his palms on her thighs.

"How much of the story do you remember?"

"Only what I've heard in class," Elena admitted, her leg twitching at his touch, "But I get the feeling that a few details were left out of the history books."

Damon nodded, moving closer to her.

"I told you that I'd explain everything. But I need you to open your mind."

Her breath shook, "I'm not a believer. I don't believe in magic...at least, I never have. But I don't know how else to explain whatever this is."

Her resolve solidified, "So, whatever you know...I want to hear it."

He couldn't help but smile.

There was his girl, with that Petrova fire burning in her eyes.

"As you wish."

* * *

Elena took a deep breath as Damon's blue eyes sparked.

He was still so close, she had to fight the urge to touch him, especially as his fingers caressed her thighs.

"What else do you wish to know?"

She swallowed, pulling her eyes from his lips as he spoke.

"You said we were magic. Shadow...whatevers. That we killed."

Damon nodded, and she held his gaze, "Why? And don't tell me it was for the power. I want specifics."

He smiled slightly at her request, and her heart sped.

"You have to understand what the time was," he started, "There were no creature comforts, even among those who lived in luxury. Hidden away in the palace, I had nothing stopping me from experimenting with the possibilities magic allowed. My mother had taught me enough to raise my interest, and the rest, I learned on my own. I studied, practiced, used, all through my youth. Magic made things easier. I could soothe wild horses, see my own future, move objects with my mind, and each time I used, I grew stronger. Magic is a hard tool to manipulate though, and I was unprepared for the addictiveness. I couldn't be without it, and why would I want to? It was all I had. Until you."

Elena hung to each of his words, trying to imagine it.

"You showed me how to practice magic?"

He lifted his gaze, "I showed you a way out of the suffocating life awaiting you. However, magic wasn't new to you. One of your servants was a born witch. But when you learned of my kind of magic...you couldn't get enough. You took to it like a babe to a breast. Latching on, always starving for more. That's why you killed."

Elena bit her lip.

She was a seventeen year old high school senior. She was not a murderer.

But apparently, she had been in her past life.

A life where witches and magic was a normal thing.

The same life the man before her had lived.

She swallowed as she stared into his eyes.

Was this feeling part of the witchcraft?

Because he'd admitted to murder.

He'd killed!

And it didn't even seem to bother him.

So why didn't she feel fear?

"Can you influence emotions?" She asked cautiously, "Is that within your power?"

He shrugged, "With the correct spell, perhaps. But I've casted none on you."

His eyes darkened, "Whatever you're feeling now, it's not manifested from magic."

"How do you know I'm feeling something?" She pressed.

His hands slid up the length of her legs as he leaned forward, "Because I feel your emotions like an energy. I am very powerful tonight, and naturally attuned to your body. I _know_ you."

"Then explain this," she breathed, motioning between them, "If it's not a spell...How can I feel like this?"

Damon closed his eyes, their foreheads merely a breath from each other.

"We didn't know how the preservation spell would work, the night we cast it. We only knew that we had to find a way to be together, and the night of the comet was our only chance for a celestial event powerful enough to bind the spell."

"What's your point?" She cut.

He smirked, "The comet's return has awoken your memories. Not all of them, obviously, but enough to give you a glimpse of your past. The closer the comet gets to the moon's apex, the stronger your tie to our past is. The emotions you are experiencing now are foreign to you, because you have yet to experience them in this life."

He lifted a hand to her cheek, "Your two realities are colliding Elena. One soul existing through two lifetimes. Elena Petrova exists, somewhere within the hidden part of your mind, and she wants out. _You_ want you to remember what we had, and that's why you feel this way. Your heart holds what your mind has forgotten."

Elena covered her hand with his own, "So this...pull toward you, this need I have for you...it's what she felt? What I felt, in the past?"

Damon's voice was thick, "A mere shadow of the true emotion. Same as your dreams. The echo of your past."

Elena laughed disbelieving, "If this is only a fragment of what felt for you, how did we even survive each other?"

Damon grinned, "We didn't reign ourselves in. Nothing was off limits, and we burned from our desire. Can you understand now? Why I'm so desperate for you to believe? For you to remember me?"

Elena pulled away from him, moving to stand.

She turned to the fire and crossed her arms, as realization struck.

"You want her back...You want me to become her?"

Damon stood, and she felt his presence behind her.

"No," he breathed, "I want _you_ back. You are one and the same."

"How can I be her, Damon? I see that life, and I feel her love for you, but she was a killer. There's a reason Stefan burned us at the stake! You...You killed your own father. If I didn't have these feelings from that past life, I'd be terrified of you. You're a monster."

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her hard against his body.

She was torn with the urge to relax into him, but didn't want her actions to undermine her words.

"We did what we needed to do," he whispered, "I know I can't ask you to trust me yet, but I'm begging, trust yourself. Every part of yourself. Even the part that goes against the things you believe."

Her breathing deepened, "How can I? I can't be her and still be me."

"But you already are," Damon insisted, turning her.

His eyes were fiery, his grip strong, "Elena, try to understand. Gaining your memories doesn't change who you are. You may be different now, having been raised in this life," he grabbed her chin, holding her eyes, "But even the whitest rose has a black shadow, my love. You are two sides to one coin. And you will never truly be yourself until you have all the pieces of the puzzle."

His gaze trailed to her lips, and she bit them.

His breath turned shallow, "I need you to believe me now, Elena. I need you to be willing to remember."

She blinked at him, "Why? Why so urgently now? If the comet is already affecting me, won't I remember more as it passes?"

Damon dropped his hands from her face, bringing them to rest at her hip.

"The Aurora Borealis happens this Saturday, with the full moon. I fear if we don't recover your memory by then, it'll be too late. Once it passes, It's gone for the next five hundred years, by which time, we will be dead, and all of this was for nothing."

Elena considered this, "But you've used the comet before, right? Why couldn't you do it again, and live or be reborn or whatever?"

"Because last time, it took us both," he reminded her, "Even with our combined magic, the sacrifice of patricide, and our deaths, the spell barely worked. If we don't recover your memory in time, this will be the only life we have together. And you will always be a mere shadow of yourself."

Her heart pounded, as the fire cracked, behind her.

Thoughts whirled in her head as she reviewed his words.

All the glimpses from the past she'd seen this week filled her mind.

She didn't want to be a monster.

But Damon was right about her needing all the pieces.

How was she suppose to live the rest of her life, knowing there was more to the story.

She exhaled.

"What do I have to do?"

* * *

**I'm hoping this explained a little more! Can't wait to see what ya'll think, so please, please, review! **

**Seriously, I'm sick and stuck in bed all day. Your reviews will make the passing time more bearable!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Heyy guys! So this chapter is a tad shorter, but the next one is coming out suuuuper long, so hopefully it'll work lol.**

**Loved all the reviews, and thanks for the concern! Feeling a little better now :)**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Elena gazed in annoyance at the book selection in front of her.

Her tutor had suggested she read at least two of them, to help her better understand the workings of politics.

At best, they'd probably just see her to sleep.

She pushed them aside, glad in the moment, that the library was empty, sans a few servants.

She needed the time to think alone.

And as usual, her thoughts turned to Damon.

She'd only spoken to him once since their whimsical night of passion, and before anything was really said, they were interrupted by a servant coming to call on her.

In the three days past, she hadn't caught a break.

King Salvatore was pressing in his insistence that she learn everything, and more, before the wedding, and eventually, the coronation.

As Aurelia's new queen, she was expected to be perfect.

A task she found quite straining, as each day passed.

Especially after catching a glimpse of Damon outside yesterday, shirtless, working to tame the black mare.

Even now, the thought of his muscles rippling, shining with the sweat that ran down his back, gave her a heated yearning, sending a chill down her spine.

But then, guiltily, she thought of Stefan.

It was unavoidable, her marriage to him.

Her father would refuse her backing out, as it would dishonor Mystic if she did, yet, she was sure that she'd never feel for the younger prince, what she felt when she was with Damon.

Stefan was to be her husband, but she didn't want him.

She wasn't even sure she could ease herself into the false contentment she'd adorned before.

Not when Damon had showed her what having more felt like.

She could never live with being simply content.

But there was no way out of this arrangement.

Talking to her father would only end in argument, and speaking such doubts to King Salvatore would possibly lead to her being sent from the castle.

And if she was made to leave, how would she gain opportunity to see Damon, and figure out her heart's desires?

So she'd play along, for now, and worry about the wedding when the time came.

She sighed, pulling one of the books closer to her.

After flipping through the pages, she slid it away again.

How was she supposed to find interest in this?

* * *

She stood, deciding to choose a book of better standing, now that her instructor wasn't breathing down her neck.

She wandered to grand staircase in the middle of the room, climbing to the second level, where the novels were kept.

She found those selections much more appealing.

Just as she reached for one with a thick, dark red cover, a hand touched her waist.

She knew who it was before his body came up against her back.

His lips grazed her neck.

She half moaned, half giggled as she breathed, "Damon."

He whirled her around, and she smiled against him, as he immediately placed his lips on hers.

"Damon," she started again, and he pulled away slightly.

"Shh," he warned, taking her hand, "We have but a moment."

He kissed her again, harder, before throwing a glance to the main floor below them.

It was still clear.

"Follow me?" he asked, and she nodded, breathless.

She'd find an excuse to tell the instructor later.

Damon led her quickly through the shelves, along the stacks, until they'd reached the back of the room, where he pinned her against the wall, placing a finger on her lips.

They listened carefully, but even the voices of the maids were muffled by distance.

Damon smiled, dropping his hand from her mouth.

"There," he huffed, "Now it is safe to speak."

Elena reached up and wound her fingers into his shirt, "I would not have us speak, while our lips could yet be occupied."

With little force, she brought his mouth back to hers, and he responded accordingly.

Her hands couldn't stop touching him, as they roamed freely over what had been denied her for days.

Damon smirked against her lips, trailing her jaw, "You are very eager, darling."

She moaned as he sucked her neck, teeth grazing, "I have been able to think of little else but you inside me since the night you sent me to my chambers."

He growled at her words, "Good. It has also proved difficult to rid memory of your thighs parting for me. Of tasting you, feeling you. It's pleasure beyond any previous experience."

She tilted her head back as he kissed across her collarbone, hands gripping her waist.

"You realize you needn't flatter me," she laughed, "I am willing enough to lie with you without such words to stroke ego."

Damon pulled away, smirking.

"You deny me the pleasure of boasting your perfection?"

She smiled, "I deny you only the time it takes to do so. Time better spent proving boasts."

Her hand came against his chest, and he dropped his forehead to hers.

"But that we had longer to prove them properly."

Elena rose a brow, "We will soon. If, of course, you do not disappear again."

He brought a hand up to her cheek.

"It wasn't my intent to postpone this reunion, princess. I would have come to you sooner, but was unable to find you alone."

She sighed, nodding, "It seems your father wishes my time well occupied. He has promised my father that he would continue to expand my education until the wedding."

"I don't envy you," Damon chuckled, straightening, "But I must admit, his persistence interferes with my desires."

Elena grinned as he took both her hands into his, "And what desires might those be?"

"Only my desire to have you with me," Damon taunted, "He urges your studies when I'd have you in my bed, learning things of a more...personal nature."

She laughed, "I do not imagine the king would quite support such enlightenment."

"It is doubtful," Damon reasoned.

Elena swallowed, "Then it seems we are faced with concerns."

Damon shook his head, "I would see concern lifted. Come to my chambers, tonight, in the tower. You remember the way?"

Elena nodded.

"Good," he pulled out a vial, "Take this before leaving your bed tonight. It will make it so you aren't discovered."

He placed it in her hand, "A potion?"

"A spell," he corrected, "For cloaking. You will be hidden until you reach my room."

She nodded, "I will come."

"And I will await you all day," he teased, leaning in to kiss her again.

* * *

Her lips had just parted for him, when her name rang through the quarter.

"Eleniana?"

It was loud, close, familiar.

Damon pulled away quickly, wiping his mouth.

Elena had just straightened her dress when Stefan rounded the corner.

"There you are," he greeted with a smile.

But as he stepped closer, he noticed Damon.

Elena was surprised by the change that immediately spread through her fiance.

"Damon."

Damon smirked beside her, as unaffected as always, "Brother."

"What are you doing here?" He asked coldly.

Damon smiled down at Elena, "I thought it rude not to introduce myself to your lovely bride-to-be."

Elena fought back the smirk tugging her lips, as she looked down at her feet.

Damon was convincing.

Stefan practically glared at him for a moment, before clearing his throat, "Your highness, please, excuse us."

Elena bowed expectedly, "Of course."

Her eyes flashed up to the eldest prince.

"It was nice to meet you, Damon."

He smirked, making a show of her departure, to further irritate Stefan.

He grabbed her hand, slowly bringing it up to his lips.

"It was great meeting you as well, Elena."

She blushed as Stefan's eyes narrowed at his brother, and she made her leave.

That was one conversation she didn't regret missing.

* * *

Damon watched Elena until her dress disappeared from sight.

"What did you say to her?" Stefan asked immediately.

Damon smirked, turning his eyes back to his brother, "Why? Afraid I might have told her something I shouldn't have?"

"Damon," Stefan warned, "You and I have gone about this many times. Any woman I've brought in that would have you, you took. But this is different. Eleniana isn't some noble woman. She's the princess of Mystic, and _your_ future queen. Don't twist her mind with your games."

Damon cocked his head, "Games? Is that what this is? If she's your betrothed, surely you've already won?"

Stefan set his jaw, "My point, Damon. There is no winning, for this is not a competition. I saw your gaze upon her, and I know her beauty. But this is _not_ a game. She is to be my bride, and you _will_ keep yourself in line."

Damon lifted a brow at the demand, "And who is going to force me to do so? You, Stefan? Do you command me, now? Surely you aren't as ignorant to believe I'd fall to your control so easily."

"I know your power," Stefan assured him, "I have even helped keep it secret. But I'm asking this of you, brother. Leave her be."

Damon's mouth twitched, but he forced a smile, bowing mockingly, "Your words, My hand. I shall stay away from the princess."

"Good," Stefan nodded, "Then we are agreed."

With a final glance, he turned, following Elena's path out.

Damon smirked, "Perfectly agreed brother. I shall stay away from Elena...lest she finds herself unable to stay away from me."

* * *

That afternoon, Elena stared out the window of the carriage as it rolled along through the forest path, on the way to town.

Stefan sat by her side.

She'd been a little surprised when he'd come to her, after their meeting in the library, to extend an invitation for her to join him on his trip.

She'd accepted immediately, wanting to keep up pretense, so soon after his near discovery.

Now, as they rode in silence, she'd partly wished she'd stayed behind.

Surely she could have discovered a way to keep herself entertained.

Perhaps even have joined Damon early.

She sighed, wishing it night already.

"Are you alright, your highness?" Stefan asked, having noted her distress.

She smiled kindly, "I've asked you before to call me Elena."

He nodded, his lip turning up, "Forgive me then, Elena. But it is difficult not to give you the respect deserving of a princess."

She crooked her head.

"What of the respect deserving of a prince?"

His brows pulled together, "What is your meaning?"

Elena bit her lip, inwardly cursing herself for speaking up.

But his statement had irked her, and it was too late now.

"Apologies, but I had wondered...Damon is your brother, is he not? Your elder brother?"

Stefan hesitated, then nodded, "Yes. He is."

"No one speaks of him," Elena pointed out, "Nor does he join us at meals...And you are in line for the throne. I could not help but wonder-"

"Why my brother is so far removed?" He finished.

She nodded.

Stefan took a breath, "It is quite complicated. Well, Damon is complicated. He prefers the solidarity over dealing with my father. The two of them...they are both stubborn, willful men, and there is almost always a fight. Damon had no respect for my father's wishes, or for his duties as the crown prince. When my father realized this, he chose not to waste his time, and passed the crown on to me."

Elena felt the urge to defend Damon rise in her, but fought it down.

There was no need to reveal her true emotions.

"Your father deemed him unfit to rule then?"

Stefan nodded, a strange expression clouding his face, and Elena wondered if he might not be telling all the truth. She also wondered if he knew of Damon's powers. It was possible, she assumed, though unlikely, seeing how Damon liked his secrets.

"Damon is unfit to be anything other than what he is," Stefan stated finally, "Count your blessings that I am the heir, and not him, lest you wish to see the walls of our countries burn. There is nothing that Damon cares for more than Damon, and I fear that will never change."

* * *

**Hope ya'll enjoyed, and can't wait for the reviews :)**

**Oh, and there was something special about the Delena scene in this chaper...something relating to a past chapter. **

**Shout out for whoever guesses it ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Heyy guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews! **

**As promised, a shout out to bellax0xchristina, who guessed what was special about the Delena scene last chapter! **

**(Delena kissed and Damon saying "We have but a moment" was mentioned in a previous chapter, during his visions of the future)**

**So awesome that you caught that detail ;)**

**Anyway, I'm feeling better, and here is a longer chapter to make up the slack lol. **

**Hope ya'll enjoy! **

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

"What do you want me to do?" Elena asked again, as Damon stared at her, impressed.

"You would willingly remember?" He rose a brow, "Despite the fact that it upsets you?"

The fire cracked behind them.

Elena swallowed, "You're right. I have to remember it all. I need all the pieces. Otherwise..."

She trailed off, but he apparently understood.

"I would have you remember now, if it were within my power. But it's not. Not yet."

She crooked her head, "Then how am I supposed to remember?"

"In time," he promised, "The planetary alignment of Venus, Earth, and Mars will happen this Friday. It's not as powerful as the Aurora Borealis, but it'll be enough for me to draw power from, given that I've consumed enough blood, and-"

"Wait," Elena cut him off, "Consumed enough blood?"

Realization dawned on her, "You plan on continuing whatever it was we planned in the past...you plan on killing!?"

Damon merely watched her reach conclusion, "You can't!"

A smirk teased his lips, "What makes you think I haven't already?"

She blinked, "Have you?"

Her voice was harsh, and stronger than she'd expected.

He considered her, then nodded, "A witch. Admittedly average, but they can't all be as strong as Emily Bennett."

"You killed her...just because you wanted her power?!" Elena pulled away, edging closer to the fire.

Damon sighed, "This doesn't have to be difficult, Elena."

"You are asking me to knowingly let you kill again!" She declared, "It's not being difficult to want to preserve human life! It can't mean so little to you!"

"It means nothing to me," Damon reasoned, still calm.

Elena stared at him.

"I should be afraid of you," she admitted, "I want to leave here and go to the police, and stop you from doing whatever it is you're trying to do...But-"

"But you won't," Damon finished, taking a step toward her.

"You won't, because you can't. Because despite everything inside of you fighting it, you love me, even still."

She flinched as he brought his hand to her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You can take a moment to hate it. You can curse everything we are. Scream, cry, fight, whatever you want. But do it and be done with it. We can't waste time with your moral confliction. You either want to know who you are, or you don't. It makes no mind to me. Even if you run and hide from me, you will love me. You will love me even while you hate me, but that's okay. Because I'll save you, and by Friday, your memories will have been returned, and we will be together again."

He released her chin, but ran his hand down her neck.

Elena held his gaze, refusing to allow her fears to show.

Damon's demeanor changed as he stared at her face, his expression softening.

"Eleniana," he whispered, stroking the base of her throat, "You are still so beautiful."

She let out a shaky breath, torn.

Her body and mind at war.

* * *

The emotions of Eleniana Petrova seemed to dominate her heart.

She loved the man before her with an aching passion, and wanted nothing more than to reach out, and spend the whole night in his blue eyes.

But her brain, which was somehow still functioning, warned her of every reason that would be a horrible idea.

Reminded her that this man was a murderer, had killed recently, even, and would do so again.

Her brain told her to run, to be terrified, and to tell someone, maybe even Stefan, who, Damon claimed, knew of everything.

But no matter how forcefully her brain told her to do these things, the feelings she had for Damon outweighed it.

Outweighed all reason or sense.

His eyes darkened as she bit her bottom lip.

"Do you even realize the effect you have on me?" He asked quietly, still running his finger across her skin, across her necklace, "The power you hold over me, just by existing."

Elena blushed, and Damon groaned.

"You _torture_ me," he breathed, his hands sliding to grip her shoulders.

With little effort, he had her back against the wall, his body pressed against hers.

He pinned her hands above her head with one arm, his other hand on her waist, holding her to the wall.

Her breath caught.

"Damon-" she exhaled.

His eyes were intense, swallowing her up, spreading heat through her body.

They burned with his love for her, the blue ignited.

Fire and Ice, somehow both reflected in his gaze.

She was melting in his arms, as hot as the amulet at her throat now grew.

Burning.

Fire.

* * *

Pain shot through Elena's head, and she cried out, a vision overtaking her.

She barely registered Damon's voice calling her name, before succumbing to the memory.

_She was in that same room of the castle._

_The giant bed lay behind her, Damon asleep upon the quilts and furs._

_He was naked, though his body was stained with blood._

_Her blood._

_He'd drank from her, the dried streaks having run down his chest during their moment of pleasure._

_Elena stood in front of the fireplace, which burned hot._

_She also wore nothing, except her own blood, dried on her skin, and the amulet, which she was unfastening. _

_She held it up, once it slid from her neck, so that the fire light shone through._

_Damon had told her not to remove it, but she knew the importance of her task was worth the risk._

_Tomorrow night, Damon would kill the king, and their spell would start._

_She threw a glance to him on the bed._

_Her chest swelled with emotion._

_Her love for him was overwhelming at times, passionate, and full forced power._

_Damon consumed her very being._

_And this could be the last time she'd ever see him._

_For if they failed...she flinched._

_They could not fail._

_Her eyes turned back to the necklace dangling from her hand._

_The blood diamond sparkled from the fire, spinning on its chain._

_Elena gripped it in her hand._

_She had faith in their plan, she did, but there was still so much that could go wrong._

_That could ruin everything._

_This was her insurance._

_The amulet held a great power; she'd felt it, fueling her own abilities._

_It would be powerful enough to bind a simple spell._

_She reached for Damon's dagger, which lay forgotten on the floor after their lovemaking._

_With its tip, she pierced her finger, beginning to chant at a low volume, as she placed the wound onto the center of the blood diamond._

_She watched as, with her words, the stone absorbed her blood, it's color darkening._

_She focused then, drawing up every emotion she had, centering on the burning love she felt for the eldest Salvatore prince._

_Filled the essence of her amulet with it._

_So no matter how tomorrow ended, she knew, at least, her heart would be preserved within the stone._

_She would not forget this love, or the man it longed for._

* * *

Elena was thrown back into consciousness, harshly, and became aware that she was sitting on the ground, Damon on his knees before her.

She was in his arms.

She blinked, taking a breath.

"Elena?" Damon asked, his voice undermined with worry.

She focused on his eyes, using them to settle herself.

"I'm okay," she told him, after a few more breaths.

He didn't seem convinced, "You are too pale, my love. You were having a fit!"

She shook her head as she sat up, grasping the front of his shirt to steady herself.

"It was another memory. At first, I only dreamt them, but lately...they've become more frequent."

Damon rubbed her back as his arm supported her.

"What did you see?"

Elena instinctively reached to the necklace at her throat.

"I saw myself...doing magic."

Damon nodded, "You were a very talented caster."

Elena felt light headed, even more so than the first time.

She reached her hand to her nose.

Sure enough, there was blood when she pulled it away.

"Damon-" she swallowed, "What's happening to me?"

He gently lifted her face toward him for inspection.

"Here," he sighed, reaching for the cloth he'd used on her earlier.

He placed it to stop the blood trickling from her nose.

"Your body is weak," he observed, "I told you that Shadowcasters are trained to manipulate the magic they absorb. Their bodies must be prepared to take in the abilities, through way of a blood sacrifice. You can not contain the power your past holds without it."

Elena shook her head, vigorously, "If you think I'm going to kill some-"

"A blood sacrifice doesn't require murder," he insisted quickly, "But even if it did, you'd have no choice but to see it through. If one vision can make you bleed, the onslaught of memories brought forth during the planetary alignment could kill you. I wouldn't have it so."

Elena stared at him, a chill down her back, "I'm dying?"

He seemed bothered by the thought, "No. You are not going to die. I won't let that happen! Do you understand?"

She nodded, "But the blood sacrifice..."

"Will need to be performed soon," he nodded, "To ensure that your body will handle the power."

Feeling a little more sturdy, she climbed to her feet.

Damon stood with her, helping her balance.

"What exactly is a blood sacrifice?" She pressed.

Damon crooked his head, "It can be anything. Any situation, in which you willingly surrender your blood to me."

"I did this in the past?" She confirmed.

Damon nodded, his eyes darkening, "You were a virgin when we first laid together. When your core bled for me, one of the greatest of blood sacrifices was given."

Elena blushed.

So Damon had taken her virginity in the past?

Perhaps that was why she'd never been able to complete the act with any of her previous boyfriends.

Maybe her first time was already claimed.

A look crossed Damon's face as he watched her.

A look she was already finding familiar.

He wanted her.

"Don't kiss me," she commanded.

Damon pulled short, smirking, "Is that really what you want?"

She swallowed at his challenge, and felt the amulet heat again.

It distracted her from his massive presence.

Once again, she fingered the necklace.

A flash of her latest memory played through her mind.

Her blood was in the stone, intertwined with that of Damon's heritage.

It had practically been on fire since Damon first came within her proximity.

And it grew hot each time she felt that strong, undeniable pull towards the man.

As if it had been leading her to him.

The vision...her spell...It must have worked.

Her own magic is what bound her to these emotions.

To Damon.

Her eyes found him.

"Elena," he searched her face.

"I'm sure," she finally answered, "If you keep kissing me, I'm going to keep kissing you back."

She gripped the amulet, "Whatever I did to this necklace, it insured that I'd remember my feelings for you. And if you kiss me, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from touching you, and we'll be back where we started, with nothing figured out."

He sighed, "Fine. If this is what you wish."

She nodded, "Thank you."

* * *

He took a step away from her, walking toward the fire.

He stopped at the mantelpiece, resting an arm against it.

"I meant it, you know?" He said after a moment.

She looked up, "Meant?"

"About it being torture, not being with you. It's cruel. To have you so close, yet so far from my reach."

She straightened as she watched him stare into the fire, "You've waited a long time for this...haven't you?"

His head turned to her, a sad smile on his face, "Centuries."

He sighed then, "As I've said, we didn't know how the spell would work. I suppose I assumed we'd just reappear in the future, safe and sound...but it didn't pan out that way."

Elena nodded, "If I came through this spell, portal, or whatever, as a baby, how did it happen for you?"

Damon considered that, "I'm not entirely sure. I just remember fading. The night the fire killed us...everything turned to black. I felt as if I we're waiting for something, anything to happen, but all that came was more nothing. Time passed, and I could feel it, but I was unmovable in the dark. So I waited...and waited. As if I we're asleep, but conscious. Some days the darkness weighed in on me, a crushing force..."

His eyes trailed back to the fire, "But I knew that I couldn't let it overpower me. Not if I ever wanted to see you again."

She could hear the rough pain in his voice.

Her body reacted before asking her brain's permission.

With three easy strides, she was behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist, head leading between his shoulder blades.

She expected the necklace's burn this time, as her heart filled with that same longing.

So much stronger than anything she'd ever felt, part of her wondered if this wasn't what an addiction was like.

Pure, unadulterated need.

And she needed Damon. Needed to feel him.

Needed to hear the sigh he gave her as he leaned his head back against hers.

Needed the happiness that filled her as she felt his pain disperse to contentment, finally having her near.

"You spent a long time in the dark, I assume, " she breathed heavily.

He turned, slowly, meeting her eyes, "I spent five hundred years in the dark, Elena...but seeing you here, feeling you," he lifted a hand to her cheek, "It makes every second worth it."

His words made her shiver with their intensity.

She crossed her arms to keep from reaching to him.

"Damon?"

He was a breath away, "Yes?"

She swallowed, "Could you please take me home?"

She didn't trust herself to drive, but she couldn't take any more soul baring tonight.

He didn't even seem surprised; and just nodded.

He grabbed her coat, which had ended up on the couch at some point, and slipped it over her shoulders.

He led her to her car, getting behind the wheel only after opening the passenger door for her.

They rode in silence, the air feeling thicker with each mile.

* * *

Eventually he pulled into her drive, turning the headlights off before parking.

"Your aunt is still asleep," he commented quietly, throwing a look at the house.

Elena didn't question his assessment.

"I think can get in without waking her."

Damon looked over, "I can get you in undetected, easily."

She rose a brow, "With magic?"

He smiled lightly, "Here...take my hand."

She did so without hesitation.

She blinked.

Somehow, she was now in her room.

She hadn't even felt the transition.

"That's...useful," she breathed, feeling unsteady.

Damon chuckled, "And it's only the beginning."

He sobered as she took a seat on the edge of her bed.

"It's late," he reasoned, watching her, "You've unveiled a lot tonight. Your mind should be given time to rest, before we go any further."

She nodded as she looked around her room, wondering if things would ever feel normal again.

Doubtful.

Damon's movement called her attention.

We had walked to the window near her bookshelf, the ledge in front of it adorned with pillows.

"You're leaving," she concluded, unsure why the thought saddened her.

Damon turned back slightly, "For tonight, I think it's best. You have much to ponder."

She dropped her head.

He was right.

She should want him to leave.

"Yeah...of course."

* * *

A force pulled her to her feet, and she looked up to see Damon directly in front of her now, his eyes scorching.

"Do not mistake me," he corrected, "I give you tonight, to clear your head. But tomorrow, I will come to you, after your classes. I will bring you to my cabin, and we will continue this. By nightfall, I plan to have you in my bed, or to find myself in yours. Make whatever arrangements necessary so that this plan fits your moral compass, but know that it is certain. You are mine, Elena. And I will not go another day without claiming you as such."

She let out a shaky breath, "But...You can't just do that."

He seemed confused, "Do what?"

"Make demands," she fired, "I could decide that I never want to see you again. And what then? Are you going to make me come to you? I have a life, with friends and a boyfriend that-"

"Stefan has nothing to do with this," Damon growled.

His dangerous expression should have frightened her, but it only fueled her annoyance, "Yes he does! I'm with him, Damon."

"You don't even know him," he spat.

"As well as I know you!" She whispered harshly, conscious of Jenna sleeping downstairs.

"I've never lied to you," Damon noted, "And that's all Stefan has done. Or have you already forgotten that his words were the ones that sentenced you to death?"

"I want to hear his side of it," she pressed, "I need to understand."

"That he was a jealous brat?" Damon urged, "Because he killed you from spite. Punishment for loving me! If you'd cried and ran to his arms that night, you're life would have been spared. But you didn't. There's a reason you chose me, Elena. And it's only a matter of time before you realize that."

She swallowed, fighting her heart's desire to give in to him blindly.

"That may be true," she allowed, "But I want to hear it from him. I owe him that. He loves me."

Damon made a noise, "This moral dilemma over Stefan's feelings didn't seem to matter much earlier when you were kissing me."

She blushed and he smirked, "Or mere moments ago, when everything in you was begging me to stay."

His hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her forward roughly.

She exhaled as their faces came a few inches apart.

"My brother only wants you so that I can't have you. It's a game that I'm already tired of, and I won't have you help him play it."

Elena steeled herself, "I'm not playing anything. I just want answers."

"Fine," Damon spat, "Get them tomorrow. Maybe Stefan will actually be honest with you, though I doubt it. He has too much at stake. But understand that I don't plan on waiting in the wings while you work through this."

"What does that mean?" She asked.

His hold tightened, painfully, "It means that the thought of my brother's hands on you enrages me. That knowing his lips have touched yours makes me want to feed him his own intestines," his eyes darkened, and she winced as he gripped both her arms in his hands, "I don't share, Elena. And I am possessive of what belongs to me."

She bit her lip, "You're hurting me, Damon. And I'm not a possession to be claimed. I'm not _yours._"

He forced her backwards, hard enough that her back made a thud as it slammed against her bed post.

Her cry was swallowed by his mouth as his lips fell to hers.

His heat, their fight, her pain, it all blurred into desire, and fire spread over her as he hissed, "Only mine."

"Oh God-" she moaned into the kiss, wrapping her legs around him, as he lifted her into his arms.

She was moved, her back against a wall now, and his teeth were teasing her bottom lip.

"Say my name," his voice was low, thick.

"Mmhhm," she fought against his mouth.

"Say it," he hissed, "I want to hear it!"

"Damon-" she breathed, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

"Again!" He exhaled, grinding his her.

"Damon..."

His teeth sunk into her neck, making her core drip for him.

"Louder," he commanded, his fingers working the button of her jeans.

She was lost in the onslaughter.

He bit her earlobe as his hand slipped into her jeans.

"Now, Elena," He growled, plunging a finger into her.

"Damon!" She practically screamed, as he jackhammered his wrist, pumping in and out of her at whiplash speed, "Fuck! Damon! Damon, _fuck_!"

An orgasm rushed forward, crashing onto her faster than she'd ever experienced.

Waves of pleasure coursed over her, and Damon's movement slowed.

When she began to tremble, he pulled his hand from her pants, letting it linger on her waist.

He breathed nearly as heavily as she did, his erection pressed against her leg.

However, as he spoke, his voice was calm.

"You're mine," he stated, "And when you're with him tomorrow, I want you to remember this."

His hand cupped her through her jeans, the sensitivity making her whimper, "Remember the way I just touched you, and how wet your body became for me. Remember that it was _my_ name you screamed in pleasure, and know that this is only the start."

His lips brushed against hers, as she tried to find her voice.

Then he was gone, leaving her breathless, aching for more, and on the verge of tears.

* * *

She kept letting him under her skin, like a fever she couldn't shake.

As if she had no self control at all.

She cursed, grabbing the lamp on her desk and throwing it across the room.

She was surprised the crash didn't bring Jenna running, but her aunt usually slept pretty soundly.

She groaned, kicking her pants off.

Her panties were still wet from Damon's teasing.

This only angered her more, as she removed them too.

However, no matter how many clothes she took off, his memory lingered, his essence all over her, making her unable to hate him, as she so desperately wanted to.

His proverbial claws were unremovable and and she could help but feel him.

As if he were a part of her.

She froze.

Maybe he was, in a way.

Her hand lifted to her necklace.

She gripped it hesitantly, holding the amulet.

As it warmed in her hand, she swallowed.

Then yanked it off, letting it drop to the floor.

* * *

**Woo, got another chapter wrote, so an update will come soon! Hope ya'll liked this one, and can't wait to read the reviews :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Heyy guys! Finally got this finished, and I hope you like :)**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Damon grew impatient in waiting.

He'd never been very good at it, but it was worse now that he had such a thing to look forward to.

The sun had set hours ago, and Elena should have returned from her trip into town with Stefan.

He was sure it had been enlightening, to say the least.

Perhaps Stefan had spun some wild tale of him, and that is why she had yet to come!

Or maybe she's just late, he told himself.

It is a big castle, after all, and his secret room wasn't exactly easy to reach.

Perhaps she was lost...

Before he could come up with another wild guess for her delay, a knock sounded at his door.

He stepped toward it as it opened, and Elena slipped inside.

She was wearing a floor length sleeping robe, and her hair was damp.

She shut the door and smiled at him, "Sorry, it was hard to-"

Her words cut off as he kissed her, taking her face in his hands.

He let his lips linger before pulling away after a moment.

"I almost gave up on you," he teased.

She smirked, "Well, before you interrupted, I was explaining why my arrival was postponed."

"Ah," he noted, "Please, continue."

She shook her head, "It matters not anymore. It just took longer than expected to get away. But I am here now, and that is all we should focus on."

He grinned, "As you wish, my lady."

She stepped forward, into his embrace, moving as close as possible.

Damon tightened his arms, pulling her against his chest.

She molded into him easily.

"Damon..." She fished quietly.

He slid his fingers through her hair, "What is it, darling?"

Her whole body moved as she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his.

"Can we...be together, again?"

He smiled, "We are together."

She gave him a look, and he grinned.

He knew exactly what she meant.

But the fun was making her say it...making her beg for it.

"Not just together," she amended, "But, you know, _together_."

He pulled his eyebrows together in mock confusion, "Sorry?"

"Damon!" She playfully hit his chest, "We both know that you know damn well what I mean!"

He chuckled, cupping her face, "Such a dirty word for a pretty mouth."

She blushed, "Damon."

He dove into those dark eyes, and felt the effects she had on his body.

He couldn't refuse her long.

"Say it," he commanded softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, "Say it, and I will bring you to the heavens."

She shuddered, "Please Damon."

"Please, what?"

She swallowed, "Take me...touch me. I want to feel you inside of me again."

He grew hard at her words, but wanted something else first.

He kissed her neck, "Mmhm, I want to hear you beg for it first. Go on, my darling, beg me to give you pleasure. Beg me to fuck you until you are one with the stars."

He took pleasure in the way her breathing faltered.

He held her gaze, to insure she knew what he expected.

She took a breath.

"I thought you might be stubborn."

He smirked, "Did you?"

She nodded, "You like things on your terms. But you also like it when I act for myself...so today, I did."

"How do you mean?" He asked.

She swallowed, "I found this in town today. I thought you might find it enjoyable. So I had my lady's maid purchase it in secret. Consider it a gift."

She took a step back, and untied her robe.

It fell to her feet, and she was left in a martial sleeping gown.

It was a white shimmer, yet completely transparent.

Damon could see the curve of her sides, the dip of her navel, and the swells of her breasts, the dark nipples poking at the fabric.

He could even see the junction of her thighs, and the triangular shape of her womanhood.

His mouth watered at the sight of her.

He fell to his knees before her, letting his hand on her waist.

"You rob me of speech with your gift," he murmured.

His hand moved to her stomach, trailing down to her core.

Through the thin material, he could see her glistening.

She was already slick with desire for him.

He moaned, "Come here, Princess, let me taste you."

She stepped closer to him, and he slid his hands beneath her gown.

It barely concealed her skin from his touch, and was easily pushed to her waist.

His face lay even with her womanhood, and he licked his lips.

She was so perfect.

He testingly raised a finger and ran it along her folds.

She trembled, as he pulled his hand away, his finger covered with her juice.

He placed it in his mouth, and suckled.

That was all it took to send him over the edge.

With a force that tilted her balanced, he pulled her forward, so that she straddled his shoulders, grasping the nearby bed post for balance.

His mouth was on her, hot and hungry, and none of the sounds flying from her lips resembled a complaint.

He ran his tongue up and down her center, lapping her juices as they flowed for him.

It was not long before she was gasping his name.

"Damon! Ah...Damon! God, more, please, God, I can feel it!"

He pulled away as she cried out, using only his fingers to tease her.

"You stopped," she breathed, thrusting against his hand.

He grinned, "As I told you, I want you to beg for it."

"Damon-" she protested.

He pumped his fingers faster, making her groan.

"Please!"

"Please what, Elena?"

She cried out as he curled his fingers, brushing against her sweet spot.

"Damon, God, please! Take me. Take me, Damon, please. I want you, please! Just...more...ahhh!"

It took only seconds with his mouth on her again, for her to reach her climax.

She came apart, her hands digging into his hair as she convulsed.

He pulled back before she could come down from her euphoria, and stripped his trousers in a fluid movement.

Once naked, he lifted her into his arms, and her core brushed against him as her legs encircled his waist.

He reached between them as she clung to his shoulders, and put himself at her entrance.

Gripping her back, he thrusted forward, and slid inside of her tight warmth.

They both cried out at the connection, and Damon moved them to the bed's edge.

He laid her flat and hooked his arms under her legs.

She moaned as he swung his hips forward, finding a rhythm, no pain or resistance hindering them this time.

He threw his head back, losing all thought in the pleasure.

This was surely heaven.

* * *

Elena lay in Damon's arms, hours after their lovemaking, enjoying the feel of his fingers trailing through her hair.

It was all so new, yet she couldn't imagine not having him do this again, and again, and again.

She lifted slightly to gaze at him.

"We'd be killed for this," she told him, wondering if the thought had crossed his mind, "If Stefan or the king were to become aware...we'd be hanged for treason to the crown."

His eyes never faltered as they held hers, "Was the crown not once to be mine? This is hardly treason. Not that it wouldn't be punished, I'm sure."

She propped her chin onto his chest, "Do you not fear death, Damon?"

"Do you?" He challenged.

She considered the question.

"No. We all must die, so it is not death that I fear."

"What then?" He asked curiously.

"Not living, I suppose. To die before having the chance seems a grander tragedy than death itself."

"Perhaps it is," he allowed, "Though that also faults in recognizing the opportunity to live when it is presented."

Elena smiled, "Are we not living? Is life not our choice now?"

He brushed her cheek with his fingers, "Elena, I live each time our eyes meet. It is well worth the risk of discovery."

She blushed, "I wish it were you that I had been promised to. Stefan might make a good king, but he is...safe. Predictable. You are not. And without you, I would have tried to do the right thing, but I fear that I would have seen myself to the gallows if this arrangement were all that awaited me in the years to come."

Damon played with the ends of her hair, "If only I did still bare a title deserving of you. But our fathers would never see it so."

She swallowed, "I know what is expected of me...but I am not ready to give this up."

Damon kissed her head, and rose, "Nor am I. I have used the craft to see our future, and we have too much to lose."

She sat up as well, "So what do we do?"

Damon smiled, "I was hoping you would inquire as much."

He stood, reaching to the floor to pull on his trousers.

Elena watched as he made his way across the room, before extending a hand.

Effortlessly, the covered table in the far corner rose from its place, and floated toward them.

It came to rest in front of Damon, touching the ground as he lowered his hand.

"Come here," he commanded, and she immediately obeyed.

He pulled away the cloth, revealing an altar, of symbols and herbs.

She ran her finger over a bottle as Damon watched her.

"For your craft?"

He nodded, "And yours, if you so desire it."

She swallowed, "I do not possess the power to control the gift."

"I shall show you," Damon promised, taking her hands into his own, "So long as you trust me."

"You know I do," she stated, holding his gaze.

"Good," he smiled, "Because there are certain requirements to make this work."

"What kind of requirements?" She questioned suspiciously.

He turned to his altar, "What I am to show you is known as blood magic, therefore, a blood sacrifice must be given to catalyst the spells."

"You want my blood?" She guessed.

"No," Damon shook his head, "Not now. Though, as you hail from the house of Petrova, your blood could be of great future use."

"But you won't hurt me," she clarified.

Damon smiled, taking her face in his hand, "I swear to you, I will not do anything to you without your full consent. Nor would I have you carry on acts of magic without it."

She leaned into his hold, "And you believe you can teach me how to perform these acts."

Damon nodded, releasing her, "If you are willing, then it is possible."

She eyed the table before her.

What Damon spoke of excited her.

That she could actually have the ability to influence the magic of the craft herself...be strong, for the first time in her life.

Make it that no man could decide her fate for her again.

It sounded a dream; one she very much wanted.

Besides, studying this with Damon was already an improvement to learning the inner workings of Aurelia's parliament with her strict instructors.

No, this could actually be useful...this could mean her liberation.

She smiled.

"Believe me, I am willing."

* * *

**Sorry, I know it's a little short, but hopefully the smut helped make up for it a little lol.**

**I've already started the next "past" chapter, and it will be much longer, so hang in there. **

**Anyway, that's that, and I can't wait to read the reviews :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Whaaaat?! 200 reviews! You guys are awesome!**

**Anyway, this chapter is longer, yay, but I was still kinda bleh while writing it, so sorry if it seems choppy or off.**

**See ya at the bottom :)**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena fought her way through the throngs of teens scattered along the hallway.

It was way too early, she was way too tired, and there wasn't enough coffee in the world to help her shake off this dire need to sleep.

She reached her locker, finally, and took her time grabbing her books.

She still had ten minutes until the bell rang anyway.

She had arrived at school uncharacteristically early today, simply to avoid spending any more time in her room.

It did nothing but plague her with thoughts of all that was revealed to her the night before, and when the idea of being a murdering witch didn't keep her awake, the memory of Damon touching her did.

Whatever cloud had hazed her mind yesterday was cleared now, and she knew it was the necklace.

Removing it had rid her of her past self's emotions.

She reminded herself that this was a good thing, but couldn't shake the slight empty feeling that it's absence was causing.

She shut her locker, forcing her mind to clear.

Right now, that necklace was the last thing she had to worry about.

* * *

She scanned the hall for Stefan, but was spotted by a different blonde.

"Elena!"

She forced a smile for Caroline, "Hey, what's up?"

"Just making sure you weren't going to blow off Friday's practice like Bonnie."

Elena paused, "Bonnie's not going?"

"No," Caroline droned, "She was supposed to give me a ride this morning, but she was running late, and now, all of a sudden, she has to go to her grandmother's and won't be back until game time."

Elena rolled her eyes at her friend.

Bonnie was probably hiding there to avoid another practice.

Even listening to Sheila Bennett's wacky woo was better than...

Elena blinked.

Things that Bonnie's grandmother had told the girls over the years came rushing back.

Stories of magic and witches and craft.

Stories that, quite recently, had stopped sounding like wacky woo, and more like actual possibilities.

"Sorry, Care," Elena forced, as a thought crossed her mind, "Catch you in History."

If her friend was affronted at being suddenly abandoned, Elena wouldn't know, but Caroline would have to wait.

Right now, she needed to see Bonnie.

* * *

She hurried down the hall, turning to the English Lit room, where the students awaited the teacher, Bonnie among them.

Elena waved, catching her attention.

Bonnie's brows furrowed, but she grabbed her purse and stood, leaving the room.

"Elena, hey."

"Hey," Elena rushed, "Can we talk?"

Bonnie nodded, and Elena grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the girl's bathroom as the bell rang.

"What's going on?" Bonnie asked hesitantly.

Elena decided to bluntly jump to the point.

"Your Grams...she says she's a witch, right? That's what we were talking about a few days ago, how she was being all pushy about your family heritage stuff, insisting that the Bennett's were a line of witches or something."

"Yeah," Bonnie allowed, "She believes in all that stuff, and I think she even tried practicing before, at some point. I don't really know...why, what's this about?"

Elena swallowed, "Have you ever wondered if any of it was real? Magic, I mean, and the witch stuff?"

"I may have humored it occasionally, but come on, Elena, you were the one saying it was all coincidence, right?"

"Well you'd be surprised how quickly a person can change their mind after...events."

"Events?" Bonnie questioned, confusedly, as the bathroom door opened and another girl came in, moving past them.

Elena swallowed, "Look, not here, okay...after school. Let's skip study hall and go to your grandmother's. I really need to talk to someone that won't look at me like I'm crazy."

Bonnie still seemed confused, but nodded, "Uh, yeah, okay."

"Okay," Elena pursed, "I'll find you."

They said goodbye then, each slipping into their first period with excuses ready.

* * *

Stefan sat in his usual desk, diagonal from hers, and she hesitated, as he smiled over at her.

She had just seen him yesterday, but after witnessing him in those visions, and hearing Damon's stories, he looked different somehow.

She hurried to take her seat.

Throughout the lesson, she could feel Stefan's eyes on her, and more than once she considered looking back at him.

But she couldn't. Not right now.

She needed to wait until she could talk to him, and get answers.

When the bell finally rang, excusing them to their next class, gym, Elena breathed a sigh of relief.

Stefan was waiting by the door for her.

"Hey, Princess," he teased with a playful smile, and she couldn't help but relax a little.

This was _Stefan_. She knew him.

She was right to give him the chance to explain himself.

"Hey," she smiled back, letting him take her hand as they entered the hall.

"You okay? You seemed a little distracted during class."

She nodded, "I'm fine, but I was kind of hoping that we could talk."

"Sure," he agreed easily, "What about?"

She shook her head, "Not right now. Let's wait until gym so we have more privacy."

He nodded, "Alright."

It didn't take long for the halls to clear and for them, along with a handful of others, to cross the yard to the gym's entrance.

They hit the dressing rooms and changed quickly.

Luckily it was Thursday, which meant the coaches would take them to the track, where Elena would have plenty of privacy.

As she predicted, that's exactly where the group was told to go.

A chorus of complaints sounded, but she was beyond paying attention.

* * *

Stefan was beside her again, as they walked behind everyone else.

"This private enough for you?" He teased.

She smiled carefully, her mind reeling, "Yeah, I guess it is."

She shot a quick look around, but no one was within earshot.

"What's wrong, Elena," he asked more sincerely.

She swallowed, deciding to bite the bullet.

Keeping her eyes in front of her, she exhaled, "I uh, I have some questions."

"Okay...," he allowed.

"About you, us," she corrected, "And your brother."

She didn't miss the way Stefan's step faltered, and she glanced over at him.

His eyes had widened slightly, but was quickly masked over.

"Brother? Elena, what are you-"

"I _know_, Stefan," she stated forcefully, coming to a stop, "I know everything."

His jaw flexed, "I highly doubt that."

She crossed her arms, "I know you're last name is Salvatore, not Cooper. I know that you were apparently still alive five hundred years ago. That you...that _we_, were royalty, and engaged. That you had me burned at the stake for killing witches."

All facades dropped from Stefan's face, and Elena took a step back at how different it made him look.

For the first time, it truly hit her.

Something about his expression was so...ancient.

Old.

As if he'd lived a thousand years.

Or at least half of it.

"It's true then," she swallowed.

Stefan's hand enclosed around her arm, and before she knew it, he was dragging her away from the field, away from the others, toward the back of the gym, where no one ever went.

Where no one could see them.

Nerves pitted in her stomach as he released her.

Stefan's back remained to her for a moment longer than she liked.

"You talked to him, didn't you?" He finally asked, "You talked to Damon?"

Her breath hitched as she thought of the previous night, "Yes."

Stefan's shoulders stiffened, but he turned.

"What did he tell you?"

Flashes filled her mind at his words.

Damon's mouth on her skin, his teeth grazing, his hand bringing her more pleasure from a touch than she'd ever brought herself.

_"Say my name."_

_"You're mine."_

Elena's mouth went dry.

_"When you're with him tomorrow, I want you to remember this."_

A blush heated her cheeks.

_"Remember the way I just touched you, and how wet your body became for me."_

She grit her teeth, trying to push away the memory of his voice, rough in her ear.

_"Remember that it was my name you screamed in pleasure, and know that this is only the start."_

* * *

"_God,_" Stefan's voice cut through, harsher now, "I can _smell_ how much you want him."

Elena blinked, her cheeks on fire, "Wh-what?"

"Your...arousal," Stefan spat, "At just the mention of his name."

She flinched, lowering her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Stefan took a deep breath. Then another.

"Did he...did you sleep with him?"

"No," her eyes shot up, "No I didn't."

Stefan seemed relieved, but she had to be honest.

"But...I wanted to. I don't know why...or maybe I do, but it was just...it wasn't me, Stefan. At least, not now me. But whatever I used to feel...it's trying to come back, and it scares me."

The anger slipped from his face, and the Stefan she recognized was back, his hands pulling her close, "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry...I know this must be confusing."

She leaned into him, feeling safe, yet couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong.

It all was.

She pulled away.

"There's more..."

Stefan nodded, "Of course there is."

"I've been having these dreams...or visions, I don't know exactly, but Damon told me they were memories. From my...past. Apparently whatever we did, it's tied to the comet, and the closer it gets, the more I remember...but if I don't do some kind of blood sacrifice thing-"

"No," Stefan cut her off, "No blood sacrifices. That's how it starts. How he got you last time. What Damon does, what you did, it's a blood magic, which I'm sure you know, but it starts with the first sacrifice of your own blood. Whatever he wants you to do, don't."

"I'll die," she breathed, and he doubled.

"What?"

"The memories I've had come back alone are too much for my body. Damon's going to do something to bring them all back...but if I don't do a blood sacrifice, it'll kill me."

"Because your body is no longer apt to hold such power," Stefan realized, "Damn it!"

"He's not going to stop trying either," Elena assured him, "If you'd felt even half...," she trailed off, "Well, let's just say he won't be giving up easily."

Stefan sighed, "Damon does have an annoying way of getting exactly what he wants."

"Well, he wants me," Elena noted, "And it scares the hell out of me, because-"

She stopped.

"Because what?" He fished.

Elena sighed, "It scares me, because I don't know if I can refuse him."

"You're going to have to try," Stefan told her, "Your necklace should help protect you. It's-"

His eyes fell to her bare neck, "Where is it?"

"I, uh, I took it off. Last night. Turns out "past me" put a spell on it."

"A spell?"

"My blood. Something to carry my essence or whatever. I think it's what was making me feel whatever I was feeling around Damon."

Stefan ran a hand down his face, "It may have, but if the spell is playing out as you've said, you won't need to necklace to resurrect your past emotions. But it can keep you safe. It's very powerful, and as long as it's on your neck, Damon can't use it. And trust me, it would benefit him more than you can imagine."

Elena shook her head, "Then why didn't he take it last night?"

"I don't know," Stefan admitted, "But you need to get it, and put it back on. Don't ever take it off. Damon has powers of manipulation. I've seen them. But as long as the necklace is protecting you, he shouldn't be able to mess with your head."

Elena placed her back against the side of the building and sank down.

"I feel dizzy."

Stefan crouched next to her, "Let's go. I'll tell the coach you weren't feeling well. We'll ditch, and see what else we can dig up."

Elena nodded, "Okay. But we have to start with Bonnie's grandmother. I think she might be-"

"A witch?" Stefan finished.

"Yeah," Elena eyed him, "How did you-"

"Bonnie," Stefan explained, "She isn't a true believer, so she isn't as secretive as she should be. And her last name is Bennett."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Stefan sighed, "In 1567, you had a handmaiden. Emily Bennett. She was a witch, and she disappeared. I'm pretty sure you, or Damon, killed her for her magic, just before you performed the time spell. She was powerful, after all."

Elena considered this, "So Bonnie's...what? Her descendant or something?"

"Exactly," Stefan nodded, "The youngest Bennett witch in a long line of magic. Generations of powerful witches have come from the Bennett bloodline. Emily's bloodline."

Elena was beyond being surprised by this point, but another thought caught her attention, "Do you think Bonnie's grandmother knows? Could she help us?"

"We can ask," he reasoned, and Elena nodded, picking herself up.

"Well then, let's go."

Stefan nodded, "Okay. But first...the necklace."

"It's in my room," Elena told him.

"Then let's go get it."

* * *

Damon watched the house curiously, leaning against the car he'd found stashed in the she'd, behind the cabin.

The woman that lived here had left earlier that morning.

From what he'd gathered, her job teaching occult studies at the local college had her gone for the day.

But he knew this was the right place.

He could feel the magic oozing out of each crack and crevice, as he walked up toward the porch.

This woman may be older, but she practiced. He reached the front door.

Just a wave of his hand proved what he'd already predicted.

The door was sealed.

Magically sealed.

Oh yes, Sheila Bennett was a strong witch.

But he was strong too.

And much older.

With a little effort, he was able to break the spell she had placed upon her door, using his mind to remove the hindrance as he walked over the now cleared threshold.

Another wave of his hand and the door stood erect yet again.

He took a deep breath, walking through the small space.

The inside reeked of witch magic, and he smiled.

How lucky he was to stumble upon a Bennett.

He would have never guessed that after five hundred years, Emily's family would still be settled in the place of her death.

Let alone still practice the craft.

But luck seemed to be favoring him much lately, and he wouldn't look down on a gift of fate.

He had entered the living room, where evidence of the craft was scattered about.

From books to candles.

He couldn't help but smirk.

This woman didn't even try to hide it.

How he _loved_ this century.

He made his way to the nearest bookshelf, fingering the binds of the old volumes, until his eyes came across a picture frame.

He did a double take.

Sheila Bennett smiled up at him, her arms around a young girl.

An extremely familiar young girl.

So his darling Elena had once again found herself in friendship with a Bennett witch.

Or at least the granddaughter of one.

Well.

This could complicate things.

And Damon didn't like complications.

* * *

**Woo, finished. **

**I feel like the ending was better than the start of the chapter, but whatever, it is finished and posted!**

**Hope ya'll enjoyed it!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys. That's for all the reviews :) glad you liked the chapter. **

**This one was fun to write lol. **

**Just giving ya'll a warning though, not sure how regularly I'll be updating this next week or two, because my husband just got deployed and I'm a bit of a mess. (Shout out to any Military spouses out there! ) But when I get through being depressed about his leaving, I should actually have more time to write, so that's kinda good lol. **

**Anyway, here's this chaper, and I hopeople ya'll like."**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

"Emily!" Elena called, upon entering her bed chambers, "Please tell me the gowns arrived."

The young woman nodded, "Yes, my lady. Just this morning. I have put them in your closet."

"Wonderful," Elena smiled, unfastening her bonnet, "Please, would you pull them out? I would like to see them myself."

"Of course, your highness."

Emily stepped into the closet as Elena sat on the bed.

Moments later, she came out carrying a handful of newly imported gowns.

Elena jumped up, "Oh. These are beautiful!"

"Quite lovely, yes," Emily agreed, "Would you like to wear one to dinner?"

Elena ran her hand over the dark red fabric that laid on top of the pile.

"Yes. I think I would."

She stripped her clothes, as Emily prepared the dress, Elena had selected, and placed the rest back in the closet.

When she reemerged, a mark on Elena's shoulder caught her attention.

"My lady...," she hurried to Elena's side, "You've been with the prince again."

Elena followed Emily's line of sight to the bruise near her collarbone.

She blushed, but didn't deny it, "So what if I have?"

She could tell Emily wanted to protest her opposition, but seemed fearful of doing so.

"Speak freely. This troubles you?"

Now Emily was blushing, "Apologies. But yes. The prince...he is dark, your highness. Magic senses magic, and he possess more than a witch can hold. Dark magic, my lady."

Elena swallowed, "Well, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle Damon."

Emily nodded, knowing her place.

"However, I would appreciate your assistance, if you don't mind. I'd rather not have Stefan, or the king asking questions."

She bared her shoulder to the witch, and Emily sighed.

With ease, she reached out a hand and murmured the necessary incantation to heal her lady's skin.

She wished to press the subject, if only for the princess's safety, but felt the words would fall upon deaf ears.

Elena surveyed her newly healed skin.

"Perfect," she smiled, "Thank you."

Then she moved to pick up the dress on the bed.

The fabric was like silk, running through Elena's fingers.

She had never felt a dress so soft.

And the color, so much darker than her usual attire, appealed to her.

Crimson and black lace.

She felt that Damon would greatly approve of the choice.

"Help me with the ties?" She asked, and Emily nodded in silent agreement.

* * *

An hour later, Elena walked from her room.

The dress fit close to her body, but not in a way that was uncomfortable.

It was a sleeveless corset top, with a skirt that reached her toes.

More than a hint of her cleavage was exposed and her hair fell in loose waves down her back.

It was one of the more riskier dresses she'd worn, especially since becoming engaged, but tonight she felt like testing her chances.

Besides, Damon would love removing it later, and any excuse to work him up made the risk well worth it.

A low whistle sounded as Elena reached the hall of the dimly lit second floor, and she turned.

Speaking of the devil...

"Damon."

He stepped from the shadows and into the torch light, his eyes hard on her, like a predator, stalking it's prey before going in for the kill.

"I thought you'd come by here, on your way down to join them."

She nodded, glancing around to be sure they were alone, "I usually do...but I am surprised to see you, my prince. These corridors are usually empty, if you don't count the servants."

He smirked, stepping closer, "How could I miss the opportunity to have you to myself?"

His hand closed around her waist, and she was drug forward, pulled hard against him.

She licked her lips.

"Is it so far beneath you to _ask_ for what you desire?" She scolded playfully.

His hand lifted, tangling in her hair.

He yanked her head back, so her face was forced up at him.

He smiled evilly, "Why ask, when I can take what I want just as easily?"

His mouth pressed against hers then, softer than she'd expected. Almost sweetly.

His hands slid from her hair to her face, as he gently caressed the skin of her cheeks.

He pulled away slowly after a minute, hesitant to end their kiss.

He spoke again, in that language she didn't understand, the words a reverence upon her lips.

"What?" She asked breathlessly.

He smiled, "The translation is rough, but it is close to the meaning of "Who is like my love? Whose beauty can compare?""

She smirked at him, challengingly, "This is love, is it, Damon?"

His hand pressed more firmly against the side of her neck, "You think I'd risk your life for anything less?"

She held his gaze, "Sex."

He chuckled darkly, "I may enjoy your body, darling, but I am not ignorant enough to love you only for it."

"No, just ignorant enough to love me."

"As if you feel differently," he challenged, "As if your heart does not also break at the thought of being parted from me."

She lifted her hands to his, pulling them from her face and squeezing them.

"It does break, Damon. It breaks at the very possibility of having to marry any other, but that is our destiny. The design of the universe, the fates."

"The universe controls nothing. Nor do the fates!" He insisted, "Or if you must believe it so, then was it not by their hands that you were brought here? Was it not fated that we meet? If you believe in their influences, then surely it is by their will that you were driven to _my_ arms, and not my brother's."

Elena shook her head, leaning into his touch, "I know not the will of the universe," she admitted, "I only know the desires of my heart. Desires I doubt even fate could change."

Damon's eyes burned into her own, "It would not have the chance to try."

His forehead rested against hers, and she sighed heavily.

"I mustn't linger too long. I am expected at dinner."

"Send Emily down to excuse you."

Despite herself, Elena giggled, "Which would be the third time this week."

She pulled away, "I will come to your chambers afterwards, but my lack of attendance will see suspicions raised. And it is already difficult enough not to get caught."

He groaned a little, "I hate the truth of your words. But very well. I suppose I can wait until tonight."

She smiled, kissing him quickly, "I will hurry back to you."

He dropped his hands, "I am counting on it."

She gave him another smile, before gathering her dress in hand and walking toward the stairway, leaving him alone in the shadows once more.

* * *

Elena felt Stefan's eyes on her the minute she entered the room, and he rose from his seat, as he usually did, until she had reached the table, by which time he'd pulled out a chair for her.

The perfect gentleman.

She noticed then that, other than a few servants bringing in a cooked ham, they were alone.

"Your father does not join us tonight?" She asked curiously.

The king hardly ever missed meals.

"Not tonight," Stefan explained, "He was called out on urgent business. He will return in a few days."

"You did not accompany him?" She inquired.

"No," Stefan leaned back, "Ronan de Guildar of Valier is arriving tomorrow morning. I remain here to welcome him."

"Oh," Elena nodded, not that she had any idea who that was.

Stefan chuckled lightly, obviously realizing this.

"Ronan is advisor to King Calder. He is cousin to the crown prince, royal by blood, but not in line for the throne. He's coming on behalf of the King."

Elena's brows furrowed, "Is there trouble in Valier?"

The neighboring kingdom lay hundreds of miles north of Mystic, but had always seemed to be a peaceful folk as she'd grown up.

"Not trouble," Stefan corrected, "But there are some who are uneasy with the merger of our kingdoms. We are powerful just as allies, but once combined, our fathers army will be a force to tremble at," this seemed to excite him, "They just want assurance that their land will be safe from plumage."

Elena nodded, "Valier has never caused disruption in our lands...why should they fear us?"

"They shouldn't," Stefan promised, "The point of this meeting is to assure them of that."

"Ah."

The rest of the food was brought out, and a servant moved to fill their cups.

Stefan took a sip, and moaned.

"Finally, a restock of our wine has been purchased."

Elena thanked the servant as they topped her off, and moved away.

"The red not up to your standards?" She teased.

Stefan smiled, "I prefer quality. Have a taste. You will see my meaning."

Elena did as he suggested, and lifted the glass to her lips.

The bitter taste that usually followed was interrupted by the sweetness that swirled on her tongue.

"It is quite delicious," she admitted, "Imported?"

Stefan nodded, "Yes. I much prefer it to the watered urch sold at the local markets."

Elena took another drink, "I can understand why."

They continued light conversation throughout the meal, and Elena actually found it more enjoyable without the political talk from the king.

It didn't take long for them to finish their plates, and a servant stepped forward to pull back her chair.

"Well, I suppose this is goodnight then," she offered a traditional courtesy.

Stefan stood, coming to her side.

"Please. Allow me to escort you to your chambers?"

She turned his offer over, then nodded.

She could join Damon a few minutes later tonight.

* * *

As Stefan took her arm, she couldn't help but think of his brother.

Damon had practically admitted to loving her tonight, though the words hadn't actually been said.

And she knew her own heart's emotions.

She loved him.

She had since their first night together.

Over the past few weeks, that had only grown.

And she had no idea what to do about it.

It scared her, yet thrilled her at the same time.

Especially now that he'd agreed to teach her how to harness magic through her blood.

Perhaps they really would find a way to be together.

Because without some promise of a future with him, her love would only cause them both heartache.

And they deserved more than that.

* * *

Elena didn't realize that they had reached her door until Stefan pulled her to a stop.

She put a smile in place ready to bid him goodnight, only to find that his eyes weren't on hers.

They had traveled south, down the length of her dress.

"Your grace?" She called, reclaiming his attention.

To her surprise, a light blush colored Stefan's skin.

"I apologize," he swallowed, "But it is hard not to notice...you are beautiful, Elena. So very beautiful."

Her throat thickened, "Oh. Thank you."

His arm slid from hers, and he hesitated.

Then slowly, lifted his hand to her face.

She watched warily as his eyes darkened, torn.

She knew that look.

Had seen it multiple times, upon Damon's face.

He was going to kiss her.

Her suspicions were confirmed as his other hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face, and lingered.

Then he was leaning toward her, his breath warm on her skin.

She swallowed.

It would be easy to turn her head; to let his lips graze her cheek, but then he would really have reason to be suspicious.

He'd kissed her before, she recalled.

Why did this time feel different?

Before she had the chance to make up her mind, his lips were pressed against her own.

She responded instinctively, deciding it would be better to play along.

However, the second she leaned into the kiss, Stefan surprised her, turning them so that her back pressed against the door.

His tongue forced it's way into her mouth, and she closed her eyes.

This was not like any other time he'd kissed her.

This was the two of them, alone, and wine induced.

When Stefan's mouth trailed down to her cheek, and onto her neck, she had to draw the line.

His hands were holding her a little too closely, and it wouldn't be uncharacteristic of her to stop him now.

"Stefan," she huffed, lifting her hands to his chest, "Stefan, wait. Stop."

He pulled away at her words, breathing hard. Then seemed to gain sense, and took a step back.

"Elena...forgive me. I lost myself in the moment."

She took a settling breath, straightening herself.

"No, forgive me. I shouldn't have allowed you to get so carried away."

He blushed, "I have probably drank too much tonight. I would never compromise you."

She smiled at him kindly, "Of course not. But I think it wise if we were both off to bed."

"Agreed," he smiled, "Until tomorrow then."

He kissed her hand, traditionally, and she nodded, "Until tomorrow."

* * *

She lingered by her door until he had left, and listened until she could no longer hear his footsteps on the stairs.

Only then did she allow herself a breath.

Her eyes closed.

Everything was getting complicated now.

And she didn't know how to stop the spiral.

Before she could sulk too long though, a voice called her attention.

"That was a hell of a bid goodnight."

Her eyes shot open, landing on Damon, who was standing across the foyer.

His stare was cold.

She blushed, knowing what he'd just seen.

"Damon-" she hurried to explain, but his hand raised, stopping her.

"I have eyes, darling," he stepped forward, towering over her, "Now, tell me, did you enjoy my brother's hands on you?"

"Damon," she chided, "That was nothing."

"You didn't answer the question," he noted, "Did you enjoy that? I do not have to wonder if _he_ did."

Elena reached out, taking hold of his arm, "He has been drinking. I feared turning him away would only raise questions. I am his fiancee, and he would not expect me to act abrupt."

Damon smirked coldly, "If that's what you need to convince yourself that-"

"Oh shut up!" She interrupted, pulling him down to her.

Their lips crashed, and Damon's hands wrapped around her, despite his annoyance.

She moaned against him, before pulling back long enough to breathe, "Your room."

She knew some of his magical capabilities.

Knew enough that he could appear anywhere he wished, with just a thought.

That's why it didn't surprise her that they were suddenly in front of his fireplace, despite not having moved.

* * *

She leaned away then, separating their bodies.

With a hard push, she forced Damon down onto the chaise at the foot of his bed.

He seemed a little startled by her forward display, but didn't hesitate to help her climb into his lap, moving the skirt of her dress so she could straddle him.

"Elena-" he swallowed, but she kissed him, ending his opposition.

She grabbed his hand, sliding it between their bodies.

"Feel me," she commanded, guiding his fingers against the folds of her womanhood.

He groaned as he realized she had not worn any undergarment, and his palm came up against hot flesh.

"Do you feel how wet my body has become?"

He nodded, plunging a finger inside of her.

She cried out as he kissed her, "God yes. You are so wet, my darling."

She brought her hands to his hair, forcing his eyes to hers.

"That is only for you," she promised, "Stefan may have claim to my title, but my heart is yours, Damon."

He sighed into her, and she attacked his trousers, pulling at his ties.

It took hardly a moment to strip away his clothes.

Then his fingers were gone, and she was sliding down onto something much more satisfying.

Damon's hands tore at the front of her corset top, ripping the dress open, then slid the fabric over her head.

Her bare chest was pressed against his then, and she moved freely, no longer hindered by the fabric.

"I'm yours," she repeated, her head resting against his as she rode him, "Only yours."

A satisfied growl escaped Damon's mouth, and he gripped her tight against him.

In a blink, she was on the bed, beneath him.

But he was no longer inside of her.

Instead, their bodies laid pressed together, their gazes locked.

"What have I done to have you?" Damon whispered.

Elena reached up, stroking his face as his eyes bore into her.

He leaned down, kissing her softly.

"I love you, Elainiana Petrova."

She smiled, "I love you too, Damon. I want you. Only you."

He rested his forehead against hers, and slid inside of her, with one movement.

"You are my heart," he promised her, "And I will find a way for us to be together."

She kissed him, as they moved together, finally feeling at home.

* * *

** I should get a prize for all this smut lol. But it's a huge base of their relationship in this story, so you're welcome ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed anyway, and please please review :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Wow.**

**Thank you guys for the support, ya'll are awesome! Things are getting a little better, but still kinda out of wack :P**

**However, I did manage to get this chaper wrote, so that's a plus :)**

**Really hope ya'll like it! **

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena took a deep breath, as she held the necklace in her hands.

It had taken a moment to find it, hidden in her carpet, but she did.

And it was still in perfect condition, despite the fact that the chain should be snapped from her fit the night before.

But no.

It was as it always had been.

And she was terrified.

Stefan, who was waiting outside in the car, had made it sound so important, so powerful.

Had promised that it would protect her.

But he hadn't felt what she felt last night.

The emotions tied to this amulet were consuming; dictating.

How could she possibly think straight with it on?

She sighed.

What other choice did she have?

If it was as powerful as Stefan claimed, it would be stupid to leave it lying on her bedroom floor.

He was right.

It was safest hanging around her neck, despite the burden it carried.

* * *

With this decided, she slipped it back around her throat, fastening the clasp.

It's familiar weight rested on her chest, and she took a breath.

Nothing felt different.

No emotional surges or random bursts of power.

She was almost disappointed, and reached up to feel the stone.

It was cool to the touch, much like it usually was, the fire from the previous night all extinguished.

Elena blushed, unable to stop her eyes from trailing over to the wall, where Damon had pinned her so roughly.

Where he had kissed her.

Touched her.

Claimed her so wildly.

And his promise to return to her, to finish the job.

The air in her lungs caught, and heat once again filled the necklace, pressing against her skin.

Oh sure, now it works.

With an annoyed huff, she did her best to push Damon from her mind.

She was mildly successful.

Throwing a quick glance at the mirror, she figured she shouldn't keep Stefan waiting, and hurried back downstairs, out to the car.

He was still waiting.

"You found it?" He confirmed, his eyes slipping to her neck.

She nodded, "Yeah, right where I left it."

"Good," he nodded, "Now we go talk to the Bennett witch."

Elena tried not to flinch at Sheila being addressed as such, but it was hard not to, especially considering how crazy her life had become, quite literally, overnight.

But either way, she needed to know what to do now, and maybe Bonnie's grandmother had answers.

"Let's go," she agreed quietly, and could only pray that the woman knew something they didn't.

* * *

Sheila Bennett had a simple house.

Two bedrooms, a cute little kitchen, and more books on the supernatural than anyone else Elena had ever known.

But as an occults professor at the nearby college, that had made sense enough.

An interesting job, she was sure, for an equally interesting woman.

A job that Elena, unfortunately, had forgotten all about in her rush for information.

"She's not here," she groaned, noting the lack of Sheila's little silver car in the drive.

But Stefan was hardly paying attention; something else capturing his focus.

A shiny blue camaro sitting on the curb, opposite of the drive.

Elena had never seen it before.

"Stefan?"

He glanced at the house in front of them, before opening his door.

"Stay in the car," he ordered calmly.

Her brows furrowed, "What's going on."

He still wasn't looking at her, "I'm not sure."

He shut his door, then cautiously walked up the porch.

Elena watched him, debating.

When his hand reached out to the knob, and the door fell open, her mind was made up.

Something was happening, and she wasn't going to sit and watch, like a child.

In a few easy strides, she was stepping inside, falling into place behind her boyfriend. "Elena," he groaned as they walked into the empty living room, "I told you to wait."

"This is Bonnie's grandmother, Stefan. I'm not just going to sit in the car."

"It might not be safe," he cautioned.

She shook her head, "I don't care."

"Elena, please go back to the car," he pleaded, and she had to resist the urge to cross her arms.

"Not gonna happen."

Stefan sighed, "Elena-"

But a low chuckle cut him off, which was followed by a slow round of applause.

Elena and Stefan both froze, as Damon entered the room, from the shadow of the hall.

"Well done, brother, well done," he mocked, "Your negotiating skills are as impeccable as ever."

"Damon," Stefan's voice dropped, "I wish I could say that I'm surprised to see you here, at the house of a Bennett witch, but..." He trailed off, leaving everyone to make the obvious conclusion as to why Damon's appearance wasn't surprising at all.

Elena swallowed, as Damon's gaze fell to her, Stefan's statement not affecting his demeanor one bit.

"Did you get the answers you wanted?" He asked her, and she blushed, but stood her ground.

"Some," she admitted, "But mainly I just have more questions."

He took a step closer, and Stefan stiffened, moving forward, so his body was between hers and his brother's.

Damon smirked, "Really, Stefan? You want to play this game again?"

"No games," Stefan reminded him, "But you aren't going to touch her."

Damon only smiled wider, his eyes shooting to Elena, "Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that she didn't tell you, but there has already been plenty of...touching, so your threat is a little redundant, don't you think?"

Stefan's face was hard, "What I think, _brother_, is that you need to leave Elena alone."

Elena watched Damon's expression flicker, but he never lost his arrogant gleam, as though this was a prized match, and he'd already won the championship.

"Leave her alone?" Damon considered, rolling the words over his tongue, "I'm not so sure that is going to work for me."

"Damon," Stefan growled.

"Tell me," Damon started, ignoring the warning as he straightened, "Have you touched her yet, brother? Have your hands known the heat of her pleasure? Because she let's out this little gasp, right as you push into her, and-"

"Enough!" Stefan bellowed, as Elena flinched, embarrassed.

Embarrassed because Damon had taken that moment with her, and embarrassed because, despite the absolute wrongness of it, his words brought back her longing for him, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on her.

"You took advantage of her," Stefan insisted angrily, "She's confused, and I've seen those powers of yours at work. There's no telling what you've done to her that-"

Damon was laughing.

"What I've done to her?" He verified, "Please Stefan, you know me better than that. You're just pissed that I've won."

Elena could already see where this was heading, and stepped around Stefan, despite his arm coming up in protest.

She met Damon's gaze head on.

"I am _not_ a competition," she told him icily.

His face softened as he looked at her, "Oh darling, you are to him."

"You see, Stefan has always wanted everything I've ever had," he looked up at his brother, "When we were young, it was my games, my horse; my toys. Then as we aged, my crown. My kingdom. And now, you."

"You took her from me," Stefan reminded him.

"I took nothing!" Damon's voice rose, as he stepped toward them to meet his brother head on, "You were suffocating her, with all your rules and studies. You wanted perfection for a bride, and she was _killing_ herself to be everything you and our father demanded! I didn't have to take her! She left you of her own free will, or is that too far outside of comprehensive abilities to understand? She chose to love me, knowing what it could mean for her, over being your queen!" Stefan flinched, but Damon wasn't done, "And this act you are putting out as a high school boyfriend has nothing on the burning nights she and I spent together. She chose me, even in death, and despite your desperate attempts to sway her, her heart is still mine. As her body will soon be as well. You can't catch up at this point, Stefan!"

Damon was close enough now that Elena could reach out and touch him, but his eyes burned into his brother's.

His words shook her, and she didn't know what to say.

But Stefan did.

"Five hundred years, and you still haven't changed," he remarked, "Elena could hate you, and you'd still take her for your own, just because that's what Damon wants. To hell with the feelings of anyone else."

Damon took a breath, then his smirk was back, "Tell me then, Stefan, what makes you so sure Elena doesn't want this? That she wouldn't choose me, yet again."

Stefan answered before Elena could, "She doesn't even know you."

"As well as she knows you," Damon shot, his hands reaching out and pulling Elena to him.

* * *

The quick movement made her lose her balance, but then her back was against Damon's chest, and one of his hands had hold of her waist, his other, around her throat.

Stefan moved toward her, but Damon jerked her back, causing a wince to slip from her mouth.

Then he was pulling a knife from his pocket, and the blade was pressed against her neck.

"What are you doing?" She gasped, fear filling her for the first time in his presence, that day.

"Shhh," he purred into the hair on the side of her head, "I am just making a point."

His other hand settled on her shoulder.

Stefan watched him warningly, "Let her go, Damon."

Damon ran his hand down Elena's arm, but kept his grip secure.

"My brother thinks I'm a monster," he told her, "He'd have you believe it too...but I'm going to show you just how little you know about your boyfriend. I'm going to show you who the real monster is."

He pushed her hair back, then, with eyes on his brother, used the knife to slice the skin of her neck, just under her left ear.

"Damon!" Stefan yelled, as Elena cried out.

But Damon had already dropped his head to the wound, his tongue running over it.

He released her, then, throwing his head back in a moan.

"God, it's been too long, my love," he breathed to her.

Elena's heart was pounding.

The pain called her attention, but so did the situation at hand.

Stefan, a monster? What was he talking about?

Her blood trickled down Damon's chin, and he smiled.

"Can you smell her, Stefan? Can you imagine what she tastes like?" He taunted, and Elena was surprised when Stefan remained silent, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Stefan?" She called, and he turned his body from them.

He was hiding.

"Stefan, what is he talking about?"

Damon laughed, "Yes, Stefan, do tell her, please."

"Go to hell," the younger Salvatore spat.

Damon grinned, "I've already been, brother. Now it's your turn. Face us. Show her the kind of man she's been spending time with."

"Damon...please," Stefan croaked.

Elena swallowed.

Why was Stefan begging Damon? Was he magic too? He'd had to survive somehow.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?!" She pleaded.

"In time, my darling," Damon promised, reaching over to her wound, gathering some of her blood on his hand, before letting his gaze settle on his brother's back, "But for now, Stefan has the stage."

He reached out, grabbing Stefan's shoulder, forcing him to turn.

Elena took a full step back, her bleeding neck, temporarily, forgotten.

Stefan's eyes were filled with red, veins running under them, like some kind of demon.

He pushed Damon's hand off his shoulder, "No!"

"Oh, come on," Damon taunted, running the hand covered in blood down Stefan's face, leaving a red trail, "Don't hold back."

Stefan moaned, and his mouth opened involuntarily, two sharp teeth elongating, like canines.

Elena's hand flew to her mouth, "Stefan?"

A cry escaped his lips, as he hit his knees, "Stop! I can't...the blood," he gasped, his eyes finding Damon, "I'll kill her."

Damon seemed to understand whatever was happening.

"It wouldn't be the first time," he spat, leaning down, "How do you expect to protect her from me, when you can't even protect her from yourself?"

Then, Damon snapped his fingers, and Stefan's neck cracked; his lifeless body falling to the floor.

Elena screamed.

* * *

Damon watched as Elena rushed to his brother's side, tears filling her eyes.

"How could you?" She looked up at him, "How could you?!"

Damon rolled his eyes, "He's fine, Elena. I've dealt with creatures of the night before. In a few hours time, he'll be back on his feet."

Her head was shaking, but she seemed unaware of the movement.

Slowly, he reached down, pulling her away from Stefan's body, and to her feet.

"Elena," he stated calmly, stroking the teardrop from her cheek, "You're going to be okay."

She was trembling, "What is going on? What is he? Why is he my boyfriend if he's your brother? Why does he care that you're here? I don't understand!"

"I know," Damon assured her, "It's a lot to take in."

"Just answer me," she begged, and he nodded.

"Stefan had us killed at the stake," he reminded her, "You wore that amulet."

Instinctively, she reached up to hold it.

"The necklace is powerful," he told her, "Powerful enough to protect itself from the fire. Stefan found it. The rage within him fed the amulet, fueling its power further, turning him into what you just saw, a creature of the night, a blood drinker. I believe the modern terminology is _vampire_."

Elena glanced at Stefan, "You're joking."

"Why would I joke about this?" Damon asked.

She swallowed, looking back into his eyes, "Witches...vampires...what's next? Werewolves?!"

Damon's eyebrows creased, "No, the moon's children were hunted to extinction back in the-"

"Sarcasm!" Elena interrupted, covering his mouth, "I don't need any more bombshells. I need time to process."

She plopped onto the nearby couch, letting her head fall into her hands.

"Elena...," Damon inquired, "Have I upset you?"

She let out a humorless laugh, "I'm a medieval princess who was burned with my lover for murder, while my fiance turned ex turned boyfriend became a vampire, and is now in competition with you, my past self's epic love, who happens to still like killing for some kind of blood power thing, for my untimely fate, which has to be decided this weekend, or half my soul is forever lost, and we are contemplating this in my best friend's grandmother's house, because she happens to be a witch from the same bloodline of my slave lady whatever in the past, who was killed by one of us. Oh and I just watched you kill your brother and then I'm told he'll just walk it off in a few hours," she huffed, "So, please, forgive me if I seem just a tad bit _upset_!"

Damon had sat down beside her, and now a smile played at his lips.

"What?" She demanded.

He looked over at her, "You're kind of adorable, all worked up like this."

She blushed, "Don't start being all pushy and sexual again. I can't deal with that right now, either."

Her head fell back into her lap, and Damon chuckled.

His sweet little Elena.

"Come with me," he grabbed her hand, "I know what you need."

Her eyes shot up, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

He sighed, "Stefan will be fine. The Bennett witch won't be back for hours. He'll be safe here."

Elena exhaled, and met his gaze, "It wasn't just him I was worried about."

Damon blinked, "I would never hurt you."

She sighed, considering his offer.

She didn't want to leave Stefan.

She didn't want to trust Damon.

But whatever feelings she'd been fighting off we're starting to break through again, and she found herself nodding.

"Where are you wanting to go?"

* * *

**Woo, chapter finished! **

**Can't wait to read the reviews! **

**And know that I have some good stuff coming up for the next "past" chapter! ;)**

**Catcha on the flip side!**


	19. Chapter 19

**I loved all of the reviews, as usual! You guys are awesome! **

**I had so much fun writing this chaper, the past storyline is always more fun lol, and I really like how it came out.**

**Hope you guys enjoy it, and I hope ya'll appreciate the fast update, as mitch as I appreciate the reviews ya'll leave ;)**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Elena sat, once again, in the dreaded seat, across from her instructor.

Today, it was Lady Ghett of Witmondor, going on about historical marks of the latest war.

The princess was fighting to hide her yawn.

Was it not time to be finished, anyway?

They had been here, in the drawing room on the second floor, for what felt like eons.

The time for lunch had already passed, and the fire and torch light was barely enough to illuminate the words she was expected to read in this dark room.

Yet, the woman still spoke.

Elena just wanted to be dismissed, so she could move on to her more interesting studies.

Tonight, Damon would begin to teach her the craft.

He had told her so as she had crawled from his bed in the early hours of the morning, and her mind had been spinning with excitement all day.

"Your highness?" The elder woman pressed.

Elena blinked, having missed whatever question had been asked of her.

"Yes?"

A stern look crossed Lady Ghett's face, "For the third time, I must urge you to pay attention!"

Elena smiled coyly, "Sorry."

Lady Ghett cleared her throat, "Now as I had said, Mystic's leading source of-"

However, before she could relaunch her lecture, a rapping on the wooden door called their attention.

Elena was surprised when it opened to reveal Damon, and her heart jumped.

"Yes?" Lady Ghett inquired.

Damon sauntered in, confident as ever, "The hour is at an end. I am afraid that her highness must be done for the day. Conflicting engagements have emerged that require her attention."

The older woman's nose turned, "And what authority have you, to command this?"

Annoyance flashed across Damon's features, and he gave the woman a glance over.

Elena stood.

"You would do well to gain sense and hold tongue," she warned, "You speak to Damon Salvatore, eldest son of Aurelia's king."

Lady Ghett had the decency to turn red and fumble, before curtsying to Damon.

"My apologies, your highness."

Damon and Elena shared a smirk.

"I think I will be done for the day," Elena decided, turning to the woman, "In fact, I think I will be postponing all further lessons."

Lady Ghett nodded, hesitantly, "For how long, my lady?"

Elena's eyes flickered to Damon, who awaited her with a hunger in his gaze.

She straightened to her full height, taking pleasure in the control she felt, "Until I decide otherwise."

The woman nodded, curtseyed again, then gathered her books and parchment.

Damon held the door open as she passed by, light cascading in, before the wood shut, leaving them alone in the darkened room.

* * *

Damon's deep, slow chuckle filled the air as he sealed the bolt.

He turned to look at her, a smile on his lips, "_Until I decide otherwise_?"

She grinned at his raised brow.

"Impressed?"

He nodded, "It thrills me to see you finally embracing your true self."

Elena smirked as he strode over, "I can not help that these lessons have been forced upon me, but lately, the need for my attendance in them has seemed...less pressing."

His hands ran down her arms, slipping to her waist, "I completely agree."

"Somehow I don't expect your father will feel the same way," she cautioned.

"To hell with him," Damon said, brushing her hair back, staring into her eyes, "I've brought you something...but first..."

Elena smiled as he took her hand, and pulled her over toward the fireplace.

"This piece here," he motioned to the portrait that hung above the mantle, "You recognize the subject?"

Elena stared at the painting.

A beautiful woman smiled down at her, and Elena's heart softened, "Queen Lillian. Your mother."

Damon nodded, "She taught me almost everything I know of the craft. Everything I will teach you," he squeezed her hand, "The necklace she wears here, the amulet...it is, in a way, her talisman, a source of her power."

His free hand reached into his pocket, revealing the very same jewel.

"She gave this to me, before she died," he said, "I believe it will assist you greatly as you learn."

Elena smiled at him, "It is beautiful, Damon."

He swirled his finger, in indication for her to turn around.

She obliged, facing the fire.

Damon's fingers slid over her skin as he pulled her hair to the side, then lifted the chain over her head.

The weight of the amulet fell just above her cleavage line, as Damon finished fastening the clasp.

Elena lifted her hand to touch the stone, as Damon's glided across her exposed shoulders, and he came flush against her back.

"It should be worn by a woman of worth," he purred in her ear, "A woman of beauty."  
Then his lips were pressed against her neck, and she fell into his touch.  
"Never take it off, Elena," he breathed, "It is more powerful than you can imagine."

She turned, facing him, "I will wear it always."

* * *

He traced the stone, then let his fingers run south, outlining the shape of her cleavage.

"I wish I could take you now," he sighed, "Right here, in this room...but alas, we have not the time."

Elena's lips fell into a pout as she took his hand, "You are certain of this? Stefan was busy entertaining a guest this morning, so perhaps we would have time."

Damon chuckled as her eyes fell to his mouth.

"Your offer is tempting, though I fear I have created a succubus."

Elena grinned, running her hands up his chest, before locking her arms around his neck.

"No, my love, such a temptress would be much more cruel in her seduction. She would tease you, by telling you all the ways she longed for your touch..." She pressed a kiss against his neck, leaning into his ear, "She would tell you of how she dreamed of you inside of her, with her crying out your name as you brought her pleasure."

Elena loved how her words made his hands tighten on her waist, and continued her tease, "Why, she might even tell you that the very thought of your lips upon her skin makes her run wet with fantasies of you bending her over this very oak desk, and having your way with-"

His lips attacked her before she could finish, and she smiled against the kiss.

Damon's strings were too obvious.

He had her in his arms faster than a breath, and his hand was clearing off the desk, before her back met the polished wood.

She held on to Damon's shoulders as he ground against her, his lips moving down her throat.

Overwhelming heat filled her, and she was possessed with the need to be taken by him, owned, completely.

"I said bent over," she teased, bucking her hips against him.

Damon let out a dark laugh, but followed through, roughly turning her body so that his manhood was pressed into the curve of her backside.

She whimpered as his arm pressed down on her shoulder blades, causing her own arms to give out, and her face and palms hit the desk.

Then Damon was pulling up her skirt.

She felt his fingers graze over her womanhood, and rolled her hips, searching for friction.

"Is this how you want it?" Damon asked, his palm coming up against her core.

"Yes," she panted, "Oh please, yes."

She could hear the smirk in Damon's words, "Such a submissive position. I cannot disagree that the view is quite enjoyable, but I am surprised. The princess would have me fuck her as I would if she were a slave."

Elena could only whimper, as Damon removed his cock from his trousers and rubbed the tip against her entrance.

"Do you like the feeling, darling? Of losing all control...of being mine?"

"Yes, God, yes, make me yours," she breathed, and he pushed into her, completely sheathing himself in a single thrust.

She cried out as he began pounding into her without hesitation, their hips meeting with each surge.

"Damon!" She cried, as his body pulled pleasure from her own.

His hand twisted into her hair, and he pinned her down, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. The slash of pain was enough to bring her climax rushing forward, and she lost all coherency as the waves claimed her.

When she came to her senses, she realized Damon had stopped moving, and was softening inside of her.

He'd reached his climax as well.

* * *

Slowly, he pulled out, and Elena could feel his seed run between her thighs.

He did not release her so she could clean it up.

Instead, he brought his two finger against her, and smeared it in between her legs.

Then he fixed her skirt, and let her stand.

She arched, and turned around.

Damon eyed her face, then slowly brought his glistening fingers to her lips.

She knew what he wanted, so she took them into her mouth, sucking off the remainder of their combined releases.

Damon seemed pleased as her tongue swirled his finger.

"You will not shower until tonight," he told her, his eyes still dark with lust, "I would have you wear me on your thighs, as a reminder of who you belong to, where I've been, and the pleasure I have brought you. Let it be my mark upon you, until tonight, where we will bathe together before beginning your study."

Elena nodded, unable to refuse him anything, "If that is your wish, my prince."

Damon smiled, taking her face in his hands, "I love you."

"I know," Elena pecked his lips, "I love you too."

"I must go now," he sighed, "I have to leave the castle for a few hours to get supplies, but I will be back before nightfall."

Elena nodded, "Ride safe, and I'll be awaiting your return."

He smiled, and kissed her once more, before offering an arm to escort her.

He unbolted the door, then led them into the second floor's main hall.

* * *

Just as they stepped out, a throat cleared.

Elena jumped as they came face to face with a man she'd never seen.

He was older than Damon, but looked younger than her father.

His robes were of royal caliber, and he held an air of entitlement.

Elena immediately assumed this was Ronan de Guildar, Stefan's honored guest from Valier.

"Pardon me," he smiled slowly, his brown eyes glinting, "I did not mean to startle you."

Elena offered him a kind expression, "No worries. His highness was just escorting me to the dining hall."

"His highness?" The man addressed, his eyes falling on Damon, "Ah, yes. Giuseppe's eldest. I've heard stories of you...the prince who refused to be king."

Damon's gaze turned to a glare, "Ronan de Guildar, the cousin of Valier, who wishes a crown to call his own."

Ronan chuckled, "It seems we both have heard the stories then. But this young lady," his eyes fell back to Elena, "I do not believe I've heard any rumor of you. Surely an angel of such beauty would have been boasted through the land."

Elena blushed, but Damon stepped forward.

"She is Elainiana Petrova. Heir to Mystic's throne, and soon to be Aurelia's queen. She is spoken for."

The man seemed to recognize Damon's challenge, and smiled, "Ah, of course...you_r brother's_ betrothed, is she not?"

Damon eyed the man, his fist clenching.

Elena thought it best to intervene.

"Would you like to accompany me to the dining hall? Damon was just on his way out."

Damon shot her a disapproving look, that she ignored.

Ronan brought a hand up to stroke his black goatee, "Is it time dinner already?"

"Not quite," Elena hurried, "But I was occupied with lessons during lunch, and thought it would be best to eat early than to suffer any longer than necessary."

Ronan chuckled, "And so it is. I would be honored to escort you, my lady, if his highness does not mind."

Elena turned to Damon, urging him with her stare to behave himself.

He sighed, "Yes, of course. I have business to attend elsewhere."

He took Elena's hand and kissed her knuckles, "Until next time."

She nodded, "Have a good evening, my prince."

With a nod to Ronan, Damon turned, heading opposite of them, down the hallway.

Elena watched him leave, then looked up at Ronan, "Shall we?"

He smiled, and offered his arm, "To dinner."

She laced her arm through his and they started down the hall.

* * *

"You are Stefan's fiancee?" Ronan began as they walked, and Elena nodded, "I am...have you seen him?"

"Not in the last hour," Ronan admitted, "A messenger beckoned him, and I was left to my own demise."

"Apologies," Elena offered.

Ronan chuckled, "Do not be sorry. I actually prefer it."

She nodded, and they fell silent.

As they reached the stairs, Ronan looked at her, "So, does he know?"

Elena glanced over, "That would depend on who we are speaking of, and what they may, or may not know."

Ronan smirked, "I speak of Stefan...does he know you are sharing a bed with his brother?"

Elena jolted, stopping on the middle of the staircase in shock.

Ronan laughed, "I suppose that answers that question."

Elena's mouth dried, and she swallowed, "Why would you think that?"

Ronan rose a brow, "You truly seem surprised. But then, I suppose you were a little preoccupied to realize how far your voice carried. I could hear you earlier, screaming out Damon's name, clear down the hall. I lingered, of course; nothing quite so enticing happens much in Valier."

Elena steeled herself, "And what makes you certain it was me?"

He laughed, "Oh, princess, if your cries of pleasure hadn't given you away, Damon's possessiveness of you would have. But don't worry...I do not plan on telling Stefan."

Elena crooked her head, taking another step down to be level with the man.

"Why not?"

A sly smirk covered his mouth, "Isn't it obvious? Leverage. So long as I have this, you are at my mercy...under my command."

She didn't like the sound of that at all.

"And pray tell, what will you command of me?"

His eyes darkened, "You will know soon enough."

* * *

**As promised, the story has heated up! **

**Let me know whatcha think ;)**


	20. Chapter 20

**I have enjoyed ya'lls reviews so much, and I really am writing as fast as I can to keep ya'll as happy with me as I am with all your wonderful feedback! **

**Present chapters aren't as fun for me lol, especially knowing what's coming up in the past, but they are still crucial to the story, so as usual, I hope ya'll enjoy :)**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

"I shouldn't have come with you," Elena sighed, for the fifth time in the past half hour, "Stefan will be angry when he wakes up."

"And this matters, why?" Damon asked, as his speedometer hit ninety.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly.

To be truthful, she didn't owe Stefan anything. Everything she'd known about him was a lie, and her life was turning upside down.

Or maybe inside out.

Nothing was as it was supposed to be, and she really didn't know how to wrap her mind around it.

But being around Damon made it easier.

Her heart calmed with a sense of rightness that she didn't understand, but had decided to trust.

Damon turned off the main highway, slowing down, finally.

He still hadn't told her where they were going.

"So, did you plan on letting me know where we were heading, or was that supposed to be a surprise?" She asked snarkily.

Quiet laughter filled the car, "Nice to see that the time change hasn't affected your impatience."

"It's not impatience," she defended, "It's curiosity...and survival."

The thicket of woods around them grew more dense, as Damon shot her a glance.

"You're safe with me, remember? I wouldn't lie to you about that."

"Then tell me where we're going," she pushed, and Damon sighed, pulling the car to a halt, "We're here."

Elena blinked, then turned to look out the window.

Nothing about the place seemed all that special.

"And here is where, exactly?"

Damon parked the car, and motioned over the dash.

"Just out there is a system of tunnels. They run under the entire city. If they are still intact, there is a place within them that I would like to show you."

Elena sighed, staring where he'd pointed.

She'd heard about the tunnels, but had never had the chance to explore them.

"Do you trust me?" Damon asked quietly, his eyes still on her.

She met his gaze.

"I don't know."

He nodded, "Will you come with me?"

She hesitated, "_Can_ I trust you?"

"Of course," he told her immediately.

She took a breath, "Fine. But we come back as soon as I say so."

He smirked, "Whatever you wish, darling."

* * *

Damon watched as his doe eyed beauty jumped from her seat, and shut the car door, before crossing her arms and walking to the front of the car.

He smiled at her restlessness, before joining her.

"The entrance is in a clearing, just past this line of trees," he told her, reaching for her hand, to lead her.

She flinched as his fingers touched hers, but relaxed as they interlaced, and Damon pulled her forward.

She didn't speak as they walked, and neither did he.

Which allowed plenty of his concentration to explore other venues.

Like the way the belt of her coat hugged her tiny waist.

Or how her knee-high boots made her legs seem even longer, despite the tights that covered them.

He laughed to himself.

It was Elena. His Elena.

She could have been wearing dirty rags, and she still would have taken his breath away.

Their shoes crunched through the dry leaves as they walked.

Damon didn't miss how the sun trailed through the top of the trees, which rustled occasionally with the autumn wind, or the way it's light reflected off Elena's hair, giving the brown locks a reddish gleam.

She tucked a strand behind her ear, with the hand he wasn't holding.

She seemed to notice his eyes on her then.

"What?" She asked.

Damon just shook his head.

They'd arrived at the clearing.

"This is it?" She inquired.

Damon nodded, looking around, "If memory serves, there should a rock formation just over...ah ha. It is here."

He released her hand to remove the bramble and overgrowth.

"It looks like a lump of dirt," Elena eyed the raised ground doubtfully.

Damon chuckled, "Just wait."

Once the path was cleared, Damon straightened, and took a step back.

"Watch," he told her confidently.

Raising his hands, he summoned the magic running through him.

With precise concentration, the ground began to shake, and he felt Elena grab one of his arms for balance.

Just before them, the earth gave way, caving some, and a large opening was revealed.

He dropped his hands, and the land settled.

"All clear," he smiled down at Elena, who was still gripping his arm.

"What did you just do?"

He turned, so his entire front was facing her, their chests nearly touching, "I removed the earth that had grown over the entry. It should be safe to descend."

Her eyes were still cautious, but he couldn't change that.

The decision to trust him would have to be hers.

"You first," she commanded, looking down at the entry.

He nodded, "Stay close."

* * *

Stefan awoke with a groan to an empty house.

Dammit.

Damon had killed him, and taken Elena.

He was pretty sure that Damon wouldn't hurt her, at least...not fatally anyway.

But her being alone with his brother...it wasn't right.

Damon had made his intentions perfectly clear, and Stefan could not let his brother corrupt Elena a second time.

He couldn't let them both become the monsters they had been.

But Damon had a point.

How would he be able to stop it?

A sharp pain in his lip reminded him that his fangs were still elongated.

He tried to relax, to force himself to return to a normal appearance, but it was hard to do with Elena's blood still trailed down his face.

God, the smell of her.

He'd fought it so hard, for so long.

The desire to drink human blood, especially hers, was a constant thorn in his side.

He'd learned to curb the urge by drinking from animals he could hunt down in the forest, but the hunger for more was always there, burning in the back of his throat.

And Damon had noticed.

Had discovered his weakness quicker than Stefan had himself.

The one downside to becoming immortal, to becoming a vampire, was the control the blood had over you.

If you ever gave into it, it would take over, more important than anything else.

Oh how Damon would just love that.

He'd watch as the blood consumed every thought that Stefan had, just to prove himself the lesser evil.

That's the only reason Damon had taunted him.

Had made Elena bleed in front of him.

He wanted Stefan to lose control.

He wanted Stefan to be a monster.

To be like him.

But he refused to give Damon that satisfaction.

He'd find another way.

He'd stop him.

Somehow.

Dragging himself into the kitchen, Stefan turned on the sink and let the water run for a moment, before splashing some on his face.

With each wash, he felt the blood lust disappear, until finally, he could breathe normally again.

The aching subsided and his fangs fell back into their regular place.

He wiped his face with his shirt, and shook off the rest of the droplets.

Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He dialed Elena's number quickly, and tensed as it went straight to voicemail.

He tried again.

Voicemail.

So her phone was either off, or she was in a place where she didn't get reception.

Both were plausible, but a flashing image of Damon destroying the device pulled at him.

After all, when it came to Elena, there was nothing his brother wouldn't do.

He'd already proved that.

Stefan sighed.

He had to find them.

And there were only about a million places Damon could have taken her.

He cursed to himself, then walked out of the witch's house, toward his car.

Damon's camaro was gone, as he'd expected, but a car like that was bound to be noticed.

He'd ask around, and hopefully, someone would know something useful.

* * *

"Wow," Elena breathed.

Damon's hands held her waist as he came up behind her.

"I thought you'd enjoy this."

They'd walked aimlessly, or so it had seemed, through the tunnels, for a long while.

It had been mostly dark, her phone flashlight as their only source of illumination.

But Damon had seemed to know where he was going, and with her hand secured in his, they'd arrived.

The last tunnel they'd turned down had slanted, leading them further under the ground, where the darkness grew incredibly dense, but as they rounded the final corner, it opened into an oval room, where a blueish light shone from all directions, like a tiny galaxy.

It was considerably warmer in this area, and the air felt moist.

"What is this?" She asked incredulously.

Damon's voice was steady in her ear, "Technically, it's a cavern. It runs under the river, just south of the falls. The lights are glow worms. Though I have to admit, the colony seems to have grown exponentially since my last visit."

Elena shook her head, "This has been under us the entire time?"

Damon nodded, "Easy to miss if you don't know where to look. These creatures were used in a handful of potions, back in our true time, and some local witches had put up protection spells, to preserve the colony. It's probably the reason they are still flourishing now."

"Witches protected the worms so they could use them in their potions?" Elena mused, "Kinda like breeding pigs for slaughter, isn't it?"

"The witches of old knew how to preserve their resources," Damon noted, "A handy tip. But unfortunately, did nothing to preserve their own lives."

Elena looked at him curiously, "Why? What happened to them?"

A smirk crossed Damon's lips, "We did."

Right.

They'd killed witches for the magic.

Elena swallowed, "Try not to seem so pleased with yourself."

Her gaze turned back to the glowing ceiling, but she had a feeling Damon had just rolled his eyes at her.

"Do you get off on such morality?" He teased.

She ignored him.

"I suppose it's to be expected," he allowed, "Being raised in this time...and succumbing to Stefan's influence."

Now it was her eyes that rolled.

"Stefan has nothing to do with my choices," she told him, "It's being a normal human, to not want to kill."

Damon laughed darkly, the sound echoing off the cavern walls, "Oh, my sweet, that's where you are wrong. The nature of humanity is cruel. It is our instinct to kill. Just watch your news occasionally. It happens every day."

"That doesn't make it right," she argued, facing him.

"The idea of right and wrong is so limiting," Damon told her, "It's all a matter of perception, my love."

Elena crossed her arms, "You're going to kill again, aren't you?"

Damon eyed her, "If I need to."

She believed him.

Everything in his face, so dimly reflected in the blue light, told her that he was being truthful.

He wouldn't lie to her.

"Why would you?"

He cocked his head, "I would think it obvious."

She bit her lip.

He was talking about her, of course, about whatever this whole deal with the comet was. "How long will the magic you have last?"

Damon stepped forward, "It depends on how often I find the need to use it."

Elena felt her heart jump as his body came within a painful proximity of her own.

But true to his word, he didn't reach for her.

"So don't use."

He chuckled, "You speak as if that were possible. With everything that is about to happen, I need to be strong. I need to be ready."

Slow enough for her to pull away if she wanted, he reached for her hand.

As their fingers laced together, he swallowed, "I can't lose you, Elena. I won't take the risk. No matter how many witches I have to drain, I will make you safe. And I will have you back."

She shuddered at his words, but couldn't help leaning into his chest.

"I wish you wouldn't."

His arms wrapped around her, "I know."

Once again, she felt the necklace at her throat heat up, but ignored it.

Who cares where her feelings were coming from.

Present day or five hundred years ago, they are still _her_ emotions.

Her head rose a little with each breath Damon took, and the glowing around them reminded her of stars in some sort of dream world, shining just for them.

"What was I like?" She asked, breaking the silence that had fallen around them.

Damon smiled against the top of her head, where his lips were pressed.

"You were...opinionated," he started, "Passionate, and loyal to a fault. You were stubborn, and even mean at times. You would mull over things for days, but once your mind came to a conclusion, that was that. You knew what you wanted, and let nothing stand in your way of getting it."

His eyes had glazed over in memory, "You were warm," he squeezed her waist, "I could talk to you, or not talk at all, and you would hold me for hours. You loved me. Above all else. And never doubted that my love for you ran just as deep. You were my everything."

Elena took a breath, trying to paint the image that he'd just described into her mind.

And oddly, she could see it.

Could imagine their life, their love, and understood why he would want her back so desperately.

"What would this blood sacrifice require?" She asked.

Damon pulled away some, meeting her gaze, "You'll do it then?"

She swallowed, but nodded, "I want to remember."

Damon's eyes lit, and his lips were against her before she could protest.

The kiss was hard, but short, Damon's excitement winning out.

"The sooner we do this, the better," he told her.

She looked around, "So let's do it."

He shook his head, "Not here, darling. The cabin. I have everything that I need there."

Elena looked down, and grabbed his hand.

"Then let's go there."

Another smile crossed his face, and she couldn't help but return it.

"I love you, Elainiana," he kissed her forehead, "Truly I do."

* * *

**Woot Woot.**

**Sooo will Elena ever remember?**

**And how far is Stefan willing to go to stop Damon? **

**All reviews are appreciated! ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Finally got this one finished! Enjoy! :)**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Elena sat at the table, her glass of wine shaking slightly in her hands.

Her nerves could not be settled, especially when the man riling them sat across from her, the Valierian scum.

King Salvatore was still away on business, but Stefan had joined them for an early dinner, having finished his duties in time.

He and Ronan were now parting words as Elena stared down at her plate.

After Ronan's threat, she was feeling far less hungry.

His dark eyes had found hers a few times throughout the meal, a knowing smirk crossing each time, taunting her with what he had discovered.

Fear filled her at the thought of being at his mercy, but she could only blame herself.

Usually she and Damon were much more careful.

But the moment had been too pressing, to good, to let slip by.

She remembered his release, dried on her inner leg.

They were being incredibly too risky.

And now, someone knew.

Someone who wanted to use this knowledge for their own personal gain.

Elena wondered again what Ronan would want from her.

Coin, perhaps? Gold? Position?

She looked up at him again, thankful to find that he was in a friendly debate with Stefan over tax pricing.

What if he wanted something else from her?

Something more personal.

She knew the affect that she had on males, she wasn't naive.

She also knew that his gaze had shamelessly ran all over her body when he'd first laid eyes to her.

She took a drink of her wine, trying to relax.

This wouldn't be an issue.

The man had not even recognized Damon at first glance, so she assumed it was unlikely he knew of Damon's power.

She would be safe, if she could get to him.

Damon would know what to do.

* * *

"How was your lesson?" Stefan's voice cut into her thoughts.

A perfected smile graced her lips, "Enlightening. Lady Ghett is a fine instructor."

Stefan nodded, "She has been boasted upon by many. Father had her requested specifically."

"Relay to him my gratitude," she offered, and Stefan nodded.

"With any luck, he shall return within the week, and you might tell him personally."

Ronan interjected then, "Where is the good king? I was under impression that he was with whom I was meeting with."

Stefan sighed, "He was called away unfortunately, and deeply regrets having you wait. But I assure you, the issues you've addressed will be of pressing concern, once he has returned."

Ronan leaned in his chair, "I am certain they will. But not to worry, the house of Salvatore has offered much enjoyment. I imagine my stay will be more pleasant than not."

Stefan chuckled, missing the wink Ronan threw at Elena, before nodding, "I would have it no other way, my lord."

* * *

The rest of dinner passed painfully slow.

Elena did her best to ignore the sly comments or looks Ronan offered her, and thanked the heavens that Stefan had not picked up on anything to see suspicions raised.

He was standing now, offering to pull back her chair.

She allowed this, and stood, as Stefan turned to Ronan.

"The sun will be set soon. If there is anything you wish before nightfall, see it requested quickly. I trust your room is to your standing?"

"Nothing is faulted," Ronan assured him, "Though, if we are to turn in soon, I would offer to escort the princess upstairs. Surely a man of your stature has a list of things left to do."

Elena tensed, and Stefan seemed to notice.

He offered Ronan a polite smile, "Gratitude for the offer, but I am in need of speaking with Elena, myself, tonight. Perhaps another time?"

Elena relaxed, and Ronan knew enough not to press upon a prince's refusal.

"Very well. Goodnight then."

He courtesied as Stefan took Elena's arm, and opened the door.

He nodded at Ronan in departure.

Elena was beyond relieved when the door closed behind them and she was alone with Stefan.

Her fiance seemed to take note of her discomfort as they reached the staircase.

"Does something trouble you, princess?"

Elena faked a smile, "Nothing of concern."

"Elena-" Stefan prodded.

She sighed, "I suppose Sir de Guildar makes me a tad uncomfortable. As you are aware, he escorted me to dinner, during that time, an unsettled feeling came over me."

Stefan squeezed her arm slightly, as it was looped through his, "Ronan is an intimidating man when he wishes to be. He is, after all, spokesman for Valier's king. But you," he stopped as they reached the second floor landing, "You are much more, Elena. You are the Princess of Mystic, and soon, Queen of Aurelia. Do not let him make you feel inferior."

Elena shook her head, turning to face the prince.

"It is not inferiority that I felt. It was uneasiness. His eyes lingered as they fell upon me, and I found it rather rude, and concerning."

Stefan gave her a soft smile, "But were he the only man that found controlling his gaze so difficult. I can not fault him for finding beauty in you. It is complementary of him to be so taken. Did he offend you with word or touch?"

Elena bit her lip.

She couldn't very well tell Stefan of Ronan's threat.

She swallowed, "No. He did not."

"Then put it from thought," Stefan instructed, "He is a well powered man, and his contentment is important to the success of our future dealings with Valier. If he has not harmed you, then surely his intent was misread. Do not look to seek trouble where it does not exist."

Elena groaned internally, but plastered on her usual contented expression.

"Of course. My apologies."

Stefan nodded, "Nothing to worry. Now, I shall see you at breakfast?"

Elena smiled, "Of course."

Leaning in, Stefan placed a quick kiss to her lips, barely a whisper, than another, more firm, upon her cheek.

"Goodnight, Eleniana."

"Goodnight," Elena offered.

* * *

She waited until Stefan had completely descended the stairs before she turned.

Part of her wanted to hurry to her room and hide, but another half feared that Ronan would find her there, alone.

She reached for the amulet at her throat.

Gripping it brought her some comfort.

_Damon_.

She needed Damon.

He'd know what to do about this situation.

He'd know how to handle Ronan.

But she wasn't sure he'd be back yet.

Perhaps she could wait in his room.

With that decided, she turned away from the platform, and headed down the long hallway to her left.

It was the quickest route to the west wing library, which was easy enough to find, now that she had traveled the route a handful of times.

It was brighter than the hallway.

The curtains were open on the vast window, an orange haze filling the room, as the sun set outside.

She hurried across, to the large bookshelf beyond the desk.

Finding the short metallic binding, she pulled, and threw a glance behind her as the walls opened.

She was still alone.

With a breath of relief she quickly entered the passageway, into the dark, cave like hall.

She quickly looked for the torch, but found the wall upon which it was normally perched, bare.

The door behind her closed.

A chill crept down Elena's spine as she was plunged into a darkness so thick she couldn't see her own two hands.

She took a breath to settle herself.

Then another.

It was a straight path down, she rationalized.

She could easily find the end, even in darkness, if she just walked directly forward.

So she did.

Reaching over, she soon felt the stone of the wall under her palm, and used it as a guide.

She walked, letting her fingers trail over the rock, taking slow deliberate steps.

But then she heard it.

And froze.

Careful footsteps, coming from behind her. She spun around.

Of course, in the dark, she could see nothing.

But the odd sense of being watched sent bumps across her skin.

Fear filled her, and she took a step back.

She hit something solid, and jumped, turning again.

But it was only the wall.

She let out a breath.

This was irrational, becoming fearful like a small child.

She focused herself.

She only needed to reach the end of the tunnel without working up a fright.

She could do that.

She shook her head at how silly she was being.

Then something grabbed her.

* * *

Elena screamed louder than she ever had in her life, just in time for a hand to clamp around her mouth, and her back to meet the wall.

She struggled, until a familiar voice called out, "Incendia."

Suddenly, all the torches lined along the tunnel lit up, flames burning where they hadn't before.

Damon stood before her, a smirk on his lips.

"You can really _scream_," he teased.

Elena pushed him away.

"What in the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

He rose a brow, "You were alone, and I was still cloaked. I decided to have some fun."

"Frightening me to my death is not fun!" She scolded.

Damon's head turned, "I didn't realize you would be so jumpy. Apologies."

Elena sighed, resting her head back against the stone.

"No, it is alright. I just was not expecting you."

Damon smiled, deciding it was safe to move closer to her again.

"Nor was I you. I was actually only coming up to change. Stefan wishes to speak to me, and I agreed to meet with him upon my return. I was going to call on you after."

Elena stiffened, "Did Stefan say what words he wished to break with you?"

"Not yet," Damon told her, his hand moving to hold hers, "Why?"

"Not here," she urged, looking around, "Let us move to your chambers."

Damon agreed easily, pulling her from the wall, and leading her down the very, now, lit pathway.

Once the door was secured behind her, Elena allowed herself to breathe.

Damon released her so he could moved to the hollowed hole on the side of his wall that served as a closet.

"You were saying?" He continued, as he reached for a clean shirt, and pulled the one he wore from his body.

Elena bit her lip.

"Damon...earlier when we...when we were together-"

Damon smirked, "How could I forget?"

He stepped over to her, his hands grasping her waist, "Tell me, have you obeyed the orders I gave you? Do you still wear me on your thighs?"

She sighed into his body as he laid a kiss upon her neck.

"Damon," she started again, pushing him away gently, "Please. We need to talk."

He nodded, backing off, "Alright, what troubles you?"

She took a deep breath, then told him off her encounter with Ronan.

Told him how their secret had been discovered, and her fear of what Ronan would demand of her.

Damon's face grew colder with each word, and Elena could see his eyes burn with the magic in his veins.

"I will _kill_ him," Damon stated slowly, once she had finished, "Thinking, for even a moment, that he could threaten you and not pay a price."

Elena cupped his cheek, "Damon, I do not wish for trouble. I just want him gone. Perhaps when you speak to Stefan..."

"I applaud your optimism," he reached up, grabbing her hands, and brought them to his chest, "But he knows, Elena. One word of this and my brother could have us sent to our deaths, if he so wished. I will not have you in danger. I will not lose you."

She nodded, "I do not wish to lose you either, my love, but I do not know what to do."

Damon kissed her head, "I will take care of this, so do not worry. You will be safe."

She kissed him, shortly, "Thank you."

He smiled, "Of course. Now I am going to see Stefan. I will find out if he suspects anything. Then I will take care of Ronan."

He seemed to think to himself for a moment, "It is a shame he is not of magical blood. The fun I would have with him then."

Elena brushed her fingers through his hair.

"Do what you must. I will await you here."

Damon began to nod, then paused, "Perhaps it better if you wait in your own room, until I come for you. I plan on bringing that bastard back here. You might not wish to see that."

She nodded cautiously, "Of course. But you will summon me...once it is finished?"

Again, Damon kissed her, "After tonight, he will no longer be of concern to you."

She felt safe in Damon's arms.

"Good."

* * *

**Aaaand done! **

**Can't wait to see what ya'll think ;)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Almost at 300 reviews! That's awesome! **

**Can't wait to see what you think about this chapter!**

**It's a bit longer than the others. **

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

The cabin looked much bigger in the daytime, than it had the previous night.

Elena clung to Damon's hand as he led her through the front door.

Two days ago, she hadn't even believed in magic.

Now she was about to partake in a blood sacrifice.

The thought rattled her mind.

Something so absurd, yet undeniable.

Crazy.

"Just relax," Damon instructed, "You're safe, remember?"

She nodded, as they entered the decently sized living room, and she released Damon's hand to sit on the couch she'd occupied before.

"How will this work?"

Damon sat on the small coffee table in front of her, "It's simple really. You offer me your blood, willingly, and it's components act as a catalyst. There's an incantation. A spell, which I'll perform, that will allow you to access the flow of magical properties...then you'll need to consume blood. Magical blood."

Elena froze, "You didn't mention that before."

Damon sighed, "You won't remember this, but long ago, I promised you that I would never force magic upon you. That it would always be your choice. I stand by that promise," he took her hand, "I am aware of your current opposition to taking life. I would not ask that of you, if it is avoidable."

"And is it?" She pressed, "Avoidable? Or do you have extra blood stored in your pantry?"

She had meant it sarcastically, but Damon's head tilted, "The fridge actually."

Elena blinked.

"You're serious."

Damon nodded, and she had to force herself to swallow.

"Was it here?" She whispered, "Did you kill that girl here?"

Damon's face was unchanging, even when Elena ripped her hand from his.

"Yes," he admitted, "But the blood is only for future purpose. For this spell, you must consume the blood directly from the source, fresh."

Elena's stomach lurched, and Damon quickly finished, "My blood will be sufficient."

She was taken aback, "Your blood?"

Damon nodded, "It runs strong with magic. It will work as activation for the spell."

Elena took a steadying breath of air.

All of the answers she wanted lay locked in her own mind.

Damon was offering her the key to unleash them.

She knew she wanted her memories back.

But the magic...

She wasn't so sure that it was also something she wanted.

She didn't want to feel the addiction Damon had described.

She didn't want to take control of something that had the power to turn her into a monster...a murderer, like him.

But she had to, didn't she.

Hadn't Damon said something about the magic of the comet killing her if she wasn't prepared for it?

"You're troubled," Damon concluded, watching her face intently.

Elena nodded, "I want to do this, I do...but..."

"But what?" Damon questioned.

Elena shook her head.

She was either going to do this, and learn the truth, or she wasn't and she would die.

She wanted to know, needed to know, what had happened to her.

She'd deal with whatever consequences followed.

"Nothing. Let's do this."

Damon smiled, and waved his hand.

A jar appeared out of thin air.

Then his knife, the same one that had, earlier, been pressed against her neck.

"Hold out your wrist."

Elena's hand shook, as she extended her arm.

Damon had sat the jar down, and gently took her hand in his own.

The blade, in his other hand, touched against her skin.

"Ready?" He asked, blue eyes gazing up at her through thick lashes.

Her breathing sped to match the pounding of her heart.

She nodded, as the front door burst open.

* * *

It was a mark of Damon's practice with weapons that he did not cut Elena as they both jumped, heads turning.

Stefan stood in the doorway, light from outside streaming into the dimly lit room.

Damon frowned in annoyance, standing.

"It is poor form to enter someone's residence without knocking first," he scolded. "You killed me," Stefan growled, "So forgive me if my actions ignore formalities."

His eyes found Elena, sitting on the sofa.

"So you _are_ here."

"This has nothing to do with you, Stefan," she told him, surprising Damon, "This is about me. I need to remember. I need to know what happened."

"No you don't," Stefan insisted, kicking the door shut as he stepped inside, "Elena, whatever he's told you-"

"Stefan, stop," Elena stood.

"This isn't about him either. It's my choice."

Stefan scowled, "You have no idea what you are doing."

Damon stepped forward then, bored with the exchange, "Back off, brother. At the very least, you must surely understand this is the only way to save her."

"No," Stefan shot, "It can't be."

"The comet is nearly upon us," Damon hissed, "With it, the tie to the spell Elena and I casted five hundred years ago. If her body is not prepared to handle the magic it's passing will bring, it could very well destroy her. Now, if you care for her at all, you'll let me finish what I have started."

Stefan was pale.

More so than usual, as he mauled over Damon's words.

He could only hope they stuck.

Elena sighed from his side, "Stefan, it'll be okay. Trust me."

His brother's gaze met hers, and Damon hated the exchange.

Hated that Stefan had any claim to her at all.

"We are doing this," he addressed, grabbing Elena's arm.

She nodded, looking up at him, "Yes."

They sat, and once adjusted, he looked at Stefan.

"This has to happen."

His brother's expression was pained, and finally he whispered, "I know."

Sure now that Stefan wouldn't impose a threat, Damon lifted his knife again.

"I suggest you move across the room," he called, "I do not wish to have to watch my back while her blood is shed. Nor risk you attacking her."

A flash of guilt crossed Stefan's face, then annoyance, but he heeded Damon's advice and walked back toward the door, which he leaned upon.

With a satisfied smirk, Damon looked back at Elena.

"Hold still, darling. This won't hurt much."

She nodded, taking a breath.

He let her settle, then pressed the blade into her skin.

She winced as he sliced her veins open, but stayed put.

He brought the jar up, and turned her wrist, letting her blood pour into the container.

He didn't need much, but wanted to be thorough.

Once the jar was a quarter of the way full, he turned her wrist again.

He could easily seal her wound with the run of his hand, but saw no fun in that.

With a wicked smile and eyes turned to Stefan, he brought her bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Her blood on his tongue alit the magic inside him, calling forth a thousand memories, and he moaned.

Stefan watched, tense, until veins slowly appeared under his eyes.

Damon smiled against Elena's skin.

"_Easy_, Stefan."

His brother ignored the taunt, choosing instead to stand, and leave the cabin.

A breeze of fresh woodsy air blew across them.

Damon pulled away, Elena's wound now healed.

Her eyes were on the door.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Damon eyed her, "He's a vampire, Elena."

She bit her lip, and he cupped her face, "Let's just finish this, alright?"

She nodded, focusing on him again.

Damon took her hands, and closed his eyes.

Pulling on the magic he held, he began the necessary incantation.

The air went still around them as he chanted, faster and faster.

Elena gasped.

He smiled, looking up at her.

It was working.

"Good. Now here," he brought the blade to his own wrist, and cut, "Drink."

Elena hesitated for a second, but then, gingerly, brought his arm to her mouth.

Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out, running across his skin.

Then she sucked.

Damon bit his tongue to keep from groaning, but damn, he'd missed this.

Elena pulled more greedily, and he knew she could feel the power now.

Her mouth was hungry.

But he was going to lose it if she didn't stop.

She'd taken enough to complete the ceremony.

She would once again be able to wield the magic she now drained from him.

She'd once again be a Shadowcaster.

* * *

Damon allowed her another moment, but then pulled back on his wrist.

To his surprise, Elena followed, pushing off the couch, and suddenly straddling him on the coffee table.

Her hand enclosed around his own, pulling the knife from it, at lightning speed, and she brought it to his throat.

He felt a slice of pain on his neck, exactly where he'd cut her before, and laughed.

Now _this_ was his Elena.

Her mouth came against the cut she'd made as her whole body fell into him.

She latched to his neck, her teeth sinking into the skin to secure herself as she drank him in.

Damon was achingly hard, beneath her.

He leaned back, the table just big enough to support his torso, and Elena fell with him.

She was on top of him now, her hips grinding down with each pull she took of his blood.

Blood that she was draining quickly.

He gripped her ass, squeezing hard, and she released him as she moaned.

Damon used her momentary distraction to change their position.

Lunging forward, he tackled her into the couch.

Her gasp hit him in all the right ways.

But he forced himself to wait, hovering over her.

"How do you feel?"

Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed.

"I've never felt more alive."

* * *

Elena was breathless.

She felt that maybe she should care about the compromising situation she was in with Damon, especially since Stefan was just outside, but she couldn't.

All she could feel was the blood coursing through her.

The magic.

She could feel it!

As if it were a tangible thing she could physically touch.

It set her body ablaze, and heightened every nerve.

Now that she had stopped the flow of Damon's blood, the sensation was easing, but wow.

The rush was incredible!

Thankfully though, she didn't feel the sudden urge to go on a killing spree.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was..." She couldn't think of a single word to describe the vastness of her emotion.

"I know," Damon smiled, straightening himself, "It's even stronger with the blood of a born witch, but I thought it best to get you accustomed to the feel of it first."

Elena hardened her gaze, the elatedness fading some.

"I've told you, I do not wish to kill."

"And I told you that you wouldn't have to," Damon reminded her.

She nodded, relaxing again, "Okay, good."

The door opened again, and Stefan stepped through, "It's done?"

Elena nodded, fighting back a blush, "It's done."

Stefan nodded, entering the room fully, but leaving the door open.

His eyes landed on his brother, his face hardening.

Elena followed his eyes to Damon, and took note of the bloodied cut, circled by the indentions of her teeth, that was still leaking red onto Damon's collar.

The locket warmed, as her concern for Damon outweighed the embarrassment of her reaction to his blood.

"You're still bleeding," she noted, turning to face him.

Damon's hand came up to the wound.

Then he grinned at her, "So heal me."

"Damon," Stefan warned.

"What?" Damon shot, "She needs to learn to control it anyway, Stefan. Leave if you have such a problem with it."

"I'm not leaving her alone with you," Stefan started.

Elena cut in, "Both of you, stop it."

She looked up at Damon, "What do you mean, heal you?"

"Same as I healed you," he explained, "Magic runs in your blood. Now control it. Force it to yield to your will."

"How?"

He clasped her hand, and brought it against his bleeding neck.

"Feel it," he commanded, "Focus on what you want, and mold your mind to seeing it done."

Elena touched him gently, her eyes trained on his.

They were merely inches apart, and she could feel his heartbeat in her fingertips.

She tried to do as he said.

She voided her mind of anything but him, which was surprisingly easy, given the situation.

She took a slow breath.

His words made sense.

She could feel the magic still, like clay, waiting to be molded into action.

She concentrated on his wound, on the blood, and on his pain.

Why could she feel his pain?

Oh right.

Damon had said that magic gave him the ability to get reads on people, especially her, since he knew her so well.

Perhaps that was what she was picking up on.

His aura, or whatever.

Okay.

Focus.

She closed her eyes.

_Heal_, she thought, _heal him_.

Suddenly, something slipped in her mind, and she felt herself stiffen.

Her lips began to move, as words in a language she didn't understand began pouring out.

Her hand grew hot where it rested over Damon's skin, an incandescent glow emerging from the wound.

Heat filled her body, and the necklace began to sting.

Her vision blacked.

"Damon! What have you done?!" Stefan's voice was far, "What's happening to her?!"

"Elena?!"

* * *

_"Stop moving!"_

_Damon groaned, from his place on his bed, "I can not."_

_"Well, you must," she instructed, "Otherwise I can't heal you."_

_He was lying on his stomach, his back covered in blood that leaked from the stab wound beneath his shoulder blade._

_"You will not be able to," his voice was gruff, "Emily was more powerful than I expected. More prepared. The blade cut deep."_

_"She knew what you are," Elena reasoned, grabbing the cloth from the water bowl near the bed to clean him again, "What we are. She knew it was only a matter of time before-"_

_Damon winced._

_"Apologies," she flinched, "How do I heal you then?"_

_"Spell," he groaned, "Summon the altar over. My grimoire is there. It should have the incantation."_

_Elena nodded, doing as he commanded. _

_"You can really only find fault in yourself, you know."_

_Damon sighed as she turned the pages of his spell book, "Yes, I know, darling. You warned me of going after her. But it does not matter. She is dead, and we have all that we need for the spell. Her magic is powerful enough to see this through. Tomorrow, my father will join Emily in death, and you and I shall be freed, at last."_

_Elena leaned down, kissing his head, "Yes, my love. At last."_

_Her hand covered his wound, having found the correct spell._

_"Brace yourself."_

* * *

Light reflected from her hand, as Elena was once more, plunged into reality.

Her body jolted, and she lost balance.

She almost met the floor, but then Damon's arms were around her, and she was upright.

Both Salvatore's were staring at her, concerned.

She shook her head, "It's okay. I'm alright."

"What was that?" Stefan demanded, but Damon held her gaze.

"What did you see?" He asked her gently.

She ran a hand over her face, "Just more of the same. Glimpses. Me doing magic. Uh, you were hurt. I did some kind of-"

"Healing spell," Damon nodded, "The night before we died."

Elena shuddered.

Death was not what she wanted to think about.

"That was a memory?" Stefan confirmed.

Elena nodded, "I told you, they've gotten more frequent."

On that note she quickly brought her hand up to her nose.

"I'm not bleeding," she said, relieved.

Damon smiled at her, "Well at least we know the spell worked correctly. And your magic is as powerful as ever."

He indicated to his neck, which was completely healed.

"You will need to rest, though."

Stefan cut in, "I agree. I'm taking you home."

He made to grab her, but Damon stepped between them, "I do not think so, brother."

"I've told you, I will not let you ruin her!"

Damon narrowed his eyes, "And I've told you what I will do if you get in my way."

"Then kill me," Stefan spat, "That's the only way I'm letting you get what you want."

Elena placed a hand on Damon's arm.

She didn't want a fight.

He chuckled darkly, eyes on Stefan.

"There are things worse than death, you know."

He stepped forward and Stefan tensed.

"Get in my way, and I will turn you into the monster you are fighting so hard not to become. I will drown you in blood until you lose control. Then I will unleash you on cities. I will deliver bleeding children to your arms and watch as you rip them apart, unable to stop, until you go mad, hating yourself. Imagine, trying to put yourself back together after falling so far into your own animalistic nature. Do not test me, brother."

"Damon," Elena warned.

She could picture all too easily his words, and knew somehow, that he wasn't bluffing.

Damon had already shown that he would go to any means to be with her.

But she would not have it come to that.

"Enough," she told him, and was a little surprised when he listened to her, backing off.

Stefan's face was void of color as he stared at his brother.

He saw the same thing she had.

No bluff.

"Elena, please," he tried one last time, "Let's just go."

But she couldn't.

She had to see this through. She had to let Elainiana Petrova in.

"I'm sorry."

He steeled at her words, cursing.

"You know where to find me," he finally bit, "If you come to your senses."

She felt a pang of guilt as he stormed away.

She didn't want to hurt him.

But he didn't understand.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, and she leaned back into Damon's hard body.

She felt his love for her flowing from him in waves, mixed in with the loss of their past, and hope for their future.

She had to finish this.

* * *

**Sooo the spell worked! Lol. Maybe a little too well. **

**Please, please review! Love the feedback and motivation! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Okay, so got this one finished! I actually have been playing with a few fic ideas that I'm writing along with this one, so I've been a little busy. **

**However this chaper is long and dark, warning, DARK, but I really like it lol. **

**Which probably says a lot about me and the therapy I clearly need lol. **

**Anyway, hope ya'll like! **

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

As she walked back to her room, Elena tried to avoid thinking of how Damon's interaction with Ronan would proceed.

She knew it was not going to be pleasant.

Ronan may have the physical strength to match Damon, but her lover's power was far too great to be challenged.

And given the threat of exposure, Damon would not be holding back.

She felt with a calming certainty that Ronan would not be with them much longer.

He was a dead man walking.

Perhaps this should have frightened her, but it did not.

If anything, it offered a relief to knowing she and Damon would not be exposed.

They would not be killed for what they could not control.

They would have to find a more permanent solution eventually, though.

They could not sneak around for the rest of their lives, and she could not marry Stefan knowing that her heart was Damon's.

She paused at the thought, her fingers on her door handle.

Had she just made up her mind?

Had she really meant that?

Tossing the idea over in her head, she nodded to herself.

Things were suddenly much clearer.

She could not marry Stefan.

She loved Damon, and if she was to stand before God and country declaring a husband, it was going to be him.

She smiled as she opened her door.

They would figure this out.

They would find a way to be together.

* * *

"There you are."

Elena froze.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, apparently awaiting her return, was Ronan.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, her voice more controlled than she felt.

"Waiting for you, of course. We have business to discuss."

She eyed him, crossing her arms.

He made no move toward her, and she thought perhaps, that maybe he really did wish to talk.

"You mean, you have demands to make," she replied cheekily.

Ronan smiled, finally standing.

"I would like to consider this more of a negotiation, if you will. We can help each other."

She scoffed, "You, help me? Ha."

"It is helping you to keep your secret from reaching light, is it not?" He reasoned.

She tried to calm the nervous pit in her stomach.

She did not like, nor trust the man in front of her.

And she wasn't sure that Damon would be looking for Ronan in her bedroom.

Biting her lip, she decided on a plan.

"It is not wise to break words of this here. There are too many servants, my own lady's maid will be checking in, and Damon could come at any moment. He is meeting me here."

Luckily, Ronan seemed to believe her, for a haughty, uneasy look crossed over his face.

It seemed the thought of facing Damon made him uncomfortable.

Elena smirked.

"Then let us go somewhere more private," he suggested, "My chambers, perhaps."

Elena shot him a cold look.

He didn't seem surprised.

"Perhaps not," she told him, "But there is another place we could go. Far removed, practically untraceable unless you know of its existence."

Ronan nodded, "Let us go there. And remember, try anything, your _highness_, and this time tomorrow both you and your beloved prince will cease to draw breath."

Elena ignored the threat and turned to her door, "Follow me, closely."

* * *

She lead Ronan through the castle, to the west wing, careful not to be detected.

The halls were dark, except for the occasional torch, lighting the pathway.

Once entering the far library, and closing the door behind Ronan, Elena realized the sun had set.

The giant window reflected the room, despite the curtains being mostly drawn.

"Is this it?" Ronan asked, as she walked to the bookshelf.

"Just a bit further," she promised, "There is a passage."

She found the correct book, and pulled.

Ronan froze as the wall shifted, revealing the entryway to the stone tunnel.

She stepped inside, and motioned for him to do the same.

"This _is_ quite removed," he stated, almost impressed, "However did you come by it?"

"Luck," she answered, "We must continue, just down here."

He nodded, letting her walk ahead of him.

The hall was still lit from before, and it was easy to reach the end.

"There is nothing here," he huffed.

"There is," she assured him, "You just have to-"

"Enough," Ronan commanded, "We are well out of the earshot of any others. Stop stalling."

Elena turned, glaring.

"I am not stalling. I was trying to take us to a place of more comfort that this. But if you insist...what is it you would have of me?"

Ronan stepped closer, using his height over her, to appear intimidating.

"I thought about it all through dinner," he admitted, "It is not often I have the chance to control a crown. I usually, simply, advise it. But this...it is a rare opportunity, indeed."

"So get on with it," Elena demanded, "What do you want?"

Ronan looked down at her, a cruel smile on his face.

"I want Mystic."

Elena's eyebrows creased, "Pardon me?"

Ronan chuckled lowly, "You may be the future queen of Aurelia, my lady, but you are first, and foremost, a Petrova; the last in the Petrova line, as a matter of fact. The single heir to Mystic's throne. The throne I want."

Her eyes darkened, "You want to rule so badly, you urge me to give you my father's kingdom? Surely you realize that it is an impossible feat. I could no more convince him, than I could Stefan. The entire motive of our wedding is to combine the countries, Aurelia and Mystic."

"I am aware of the contract," Ronan nodded, "But nothing is set until the day your vows are spoken, so do not try to pretend the bond is so unbreakable."

She crossed her arms in annoyance, "Then, pray tell, what would you have me do?"

Ronan smirked, "Call off the wedding, of course."

Elena froze, "You are truly mad."

"Am I?" He rose a brow, "You end the engagement, and the treaty between Aurelia and Mystic no longer exists. Leaving us free to come to our own terms of agreement."

Her mouth gaped slightly, "You wish me to...marry you?"

Ronan shrugged, "Means to an end, princess. Our union will see me to position. Then, as king of Mystic, I will destroy Valier, until my beloved cousin agrees to surrender his crown to me. Then, as we take control of Valier and her forces, her army, we will have the power to overcome Aurelia as well."

Elena felt sick, "I will not allow this."

Ronan pulled himself back to reality, and looked at her, "What choice do you have? It is either obey me, or die."

She set her jaw, "You assume Stefan will chose to have us killed. He may yet show mercy."

Ronan's eyes flashed, and he grabbed her arm, "Death would be mercy! Once I get through spinning my tale for him, of all the things I witnessed between you and his brother, of how you then offered your body to me, to keep me quiet-"

"Liar," she spat, "Stefan and Damon would both know that I would rather die than touch you with that intent!"

He pulled her arm, and the next thing Elena knew, she was turned, and pinned against the wall, Ronan pressing into her backside.

"It would do you well to hold your tongue," he hissed, "Though I find it a bit offensive. Why would you perceive me as undeserving of you? What have the Salvatore's that I not?"

He yanked her hair back, and Elena cried out.

His voice was hot against her cheek, "It cannot be your preference or morals, seeing as you chose to willingly be the Salvatore's whore, so what is it? Do you believe me unworthy, as my cousin does?"

He whirled her around, the pain of her head meeting the wall filling her eyes with tears.

"Answer me!"

His hand moved to her throat.

"Please," she tried to swallow.

He laughed, "This was intended to be a peaceful exchange. But you are not playing by the rules. So these are the new ones..."

His gaze hardened, roaming over her, and Elena tensed.

"You will give me what I want of your influence, or I will take what I want of your body. The choice is yours."

Elena grasped at his hand around her throat. He loosened it enough for her to speak, but anger and fear had cleared her mind.

As soon as his eyes were on her face, she brought her knee up, hard, connecting with his privates.

The action was enough for him to release her, and Elena didn't wait for him to recover.

She pulled herself from his reach, and scurried quickly to the wall.

Frantically, she hit all over, searching for the one stone that would open the passage.

Before she found it, however, Ronan pounced her, pinning her against the wall.

"That wasn't very nice," he growled, "Now this is going to be painful for you."

His hands scrambled to bunch up the skirt of her dress, as hers reached all over, still searching.

She finally felt a stone that was unlike the others, smoother, and hit it, hard.

The wall gave way, causing them both to stumble forward; Ronan crying out in surprise.

Elena recovered first, sprinting up the stairs, her heart pounding.

She reached the wooden door and forced it open.

She had just stepped inside when Ronan pushed in behind her.

His eyes quickly scoped the room as she backed away, and he smiled.

"Nowhere to run now, wench."

* * *

Elena was unable to catch her breath, as she whirled around.

There was nothing for her to use against him.

And Ronan seemed to know this.

He reached out, taking hold of her arm, and dragged her forward.

His hand fisted in her hair, forcing her head up.

"I tried to be polite," he insisted, "But now...now you are going to suffer."

He pushed her, until her back collided with Damon's bedpost, and she winced.

"You do not want to do this," she told him, "Stefan, if not my father, will have you executed."

Ronan grinned, "They would have to know of the crime, and who will tell them? You? So I can reveal your secret and prove you a liar? Please, Princess. No one would believe you, and we both know that you would not risk yours or Damon's life."

She fought against him, but his hand came across her face with a deafening sting.

She grabbed her cheek, and felt blood drip from her lip.

Then she was being flipped, turned.

She kicked, to no avail, as Ronan forced her to bend over Damon's bed.

"Stop!" She screamed, as he forced up her skirt, "Do not do this!"

"No undergarment," he laughed coldly, his hand moving to the back of her neck to pin her against the mattress, "Why am I not surprised?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, as his hand ran down her back, lower and lower.

"Please," she whispered.

Then the pressure was gone.

* * *

Elena jumped up, and spun around, only to find Damon in the doorway, and Ronan, levitated against the wall, a good few inches from the floor.

He clawed against his neck, as though an invisible hand were choking him.

It must have been Damon's magic.

Damon, who was now at her side.

"Elena," he breathed, taking her into his arms, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, but squeezed him, "I am now."

He kissed her head, and wiped the tear that fell from her eye, "I am sorry."

She nodded, and he pressed his lips to hers. Then he turned to Ronan, who was still struggling.

With the tilt of Damon's head, he dropped to the floor.

It took him a second before he scrambled to his feet.

"You!" Ronan gaped, "You did that?!"

Damon ignored the question, instead, used his mind to forced Ronan back against the wall.

"Do not bother moving," he commanded, "You will be unable to."

"How are you doing this?" Ronan demanded, "Witchcraft flows in bloodlines!"

Damon smiled harshly, "You do not get to worry about that."

Ronan swallowed as he met Damon's eyes, seeming to read something there.

Damon nodded, as if confirming the answer to an unspoken question, "I am going to kill you, Ronan de Guildar. But first, you will pay for every second your hand was upon her, the tear that touched her cheek, and the blood that shed from her mouth. Your death will not be a gentle one, I fear."

True terror clouded Ronan's eyes, and he went to scream something, only to have his eyes bulge in disbelief when no sound came from his lips.

"Can't have you causing interruption among the castle," Damon noted, pulling a dagger from the sheath carved into his belt, "Not that it would matter. Even if your screams were able to be heard, no one would be able to find us."

Elena nearly smiled as Ronan's own eyes filled with tears.

He knew his end was near.

His lips moved, pleading silent mercy from Damon.

Anger filled her at the sight.

How dare he beg for mercy, after what he was about to do to her!

He had threatened to tell Stefan her secret.

He was going to take Damon from her.

He was going to rape her!

For refusing him her father's kingdom, her birthright!

The sick pleasure of his laugh when he bent her over sounded in her ears.

Rage flooded her mind, and Elena's feet were moving before she had even decided what she was going to do.

She just wanted blood.

His blood.

* * *

In a swift motion, she stormed past Damon, snatching the dagger he twirled, and lunged at Ronan.

The blade sank into his chest.

He silently screamed, and she felt an odd satisfaction.

"Elena," Damon murmured, but she'd already pulled the knife out.

She screamed as she drove it into him.

Again.

Then again.

A cold, mad scream.

She stabbed into his chest, slinging blood each time she drew back, until Ronan's body fell from the wall, into a heap on the floor.

Still, she pierced him, crawling onto his body.

His eyes were wide, his throat gurgling, but she was relentless.

She didn't care that blood covered her, the wall, the floor, and even Damon.

She didn't care that this was against the laws.

She only cared about his life, forever removed from this world.

* * *

With a final slash she slit open his throat, and all the blood that had filled his airways spewed out in a fountain of red, drenching her.

His arms fell, and his eyes were blank.

She lifted her chin as the blood covered her, eyes closing.

A certain peace overcame her then.

She dropped the dagger.

Her chest heaved as she relaxed her neck, and stared down at her offender.

She waited for the shock.

For the disgust, the guilt.

But none came.

* * *

A dark chuckle grabbed her attention, and she looked over, to Damon, who now also had red droplets covering him.

"So much for torture."

She looked back down at Ronan's corpse, at her own blood covered hands.

"He was not yours to kill," she decided, and Damon laughed again, "No. He was not."

His hand came down in a silent offer, and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"I could not stop," she told him, "God help me, I could not. I wanted him dead."

Damon sobered, bringing his palm to her cheek, the slick feel proving that more blood had covered her there, too.

"As did I, for his hands upon you. I fear what may have happened, if I had been but a moment later."

"I am fine, now," she assured him.

Damon nodded, looking over at the body, "You enacted your vengeance beautifully. I could not take my eyes from you."

His gaze connected with hers again, and the lust she found there was easy to read.

As was the adoration.

"I wanted you."

She smirked, "Then have me."

* * *

At her words, a terrible smile crossed his lips, the grin of a demon that was getting its way.

But oh, his eyes, as they watched his hands remove her dress, were nothing short of angelic orbs, reflecting to her, the heavens.

"I love you," she sighed, and he kissed her slowly, his tongue running over her bloodied lip.

"I love you too, my sweet Elainiana. My beautiful avenging angel."

She smiled, and he pulled them to the bed, the sheets turning red as they rolled on them, but they were both beyond caring.

His clothes were gone in a flash, and his mouth was on her chest.

His tongue and teeth lapping at her skin, until she couldn't tell what was Ronan's blood, and what was hers, rising to the surface.

Slowly, Damon worshipped her body, the fire dancing behind them.

Then he was sliding into her, inch by delicious inch, and she reveled in the euphoria.

Her hands flew against Damon's chest, leaving distinct red lines, from her blood soaked fingers.

The color was so stark against his skin, so primal, that she became even wetter.

She bucked her hips, and Damon obliged her silent wish, slamming into her.

With a moan, she threw her head back, and laughed with contentment.

A thin sheen of sweat covered their bodies, the air smelled of sex and blood, and as her head hung from the edge of the bed, Elena could see the pool of red that Ronan's body now laid in.

Heat filled her.

Damon called her name as she tensed, and she came.

Harder than ever before.

* * *

**Lol, told you it was dark ;)**

**Can't wait to see what you think!**

**Please review! :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey guys! Sorry for the belated update, but I got to go see my husband and didn't have much time to write. **

**I love ya'll, but I love him more lol, sorry.**

**But hopefully ya'll will like this chaper anyway! **

**Xoxo.**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Damon listened cautiously for Stefan to return, but he never did.

He truly had left them.

A smile turned his lips, as Elena spun in his arms.

Her eyes were bright, as they searched his face, "When can I get my memories back?"

"Friday," he promised, bringing a hand up to her cheek, "The comet falls in the middle of a stream of celestial events. Friday night is the beginning. The planetary alignment, which I can use to power the spell I will need to perform. It should bring back your memories."

Elena seemed to contemplate this, "I thought you needed the comet. The spell, to get me back...I thought the entire point was that we tied our lives to the comet."

"And so the comet's return has revived us," Damon reasoned, "I only said that your memories will need to be returned before the comet's passing. I have other plans for the comet itself. Other fulfilments to make."

Elena's head crooked, "Like what?"

He smiled down at her, "You will know when I need you to."

She gave him an indignant look, "Damon-"

"Just trust me," he purred, holding her face, "The less you have to focus on, the better. You need to learn control of your magic first. Let me worry about everything else."

His words seemed to wash over her, and finally, she nodded.

"Okay. But I need to know what to do."

Damon grinned, "That is what I'm here for, darling."

* * *

Elena tried to keep her mind from reeling.

Damon had spent the last few hours having her work out her brain, in various ways, and she felt drained.

On the up side, she could now summon things to herself. She could also heal minor wounds, and light things on fire.

Damon seemed pleased with her progress, but also seemed to want more.

He was relentless, insistent, and driven.

He pushed her until she could literally do no more without collapsing.

"Damon, enough," she finally told him, after failing for the third time to teleport across the room, "It's clearly not going to happen tonight."

She pulled out her phone, ignored the text from Bonnie, and checked the time, "It's late anyway. Jenna will be worried if I'm not back soon."

Damon sighed, uncrossing his arms, and strode over to her.

"You are so close, Elena. Your influence on corporeal objects is impressive, but you need to be able to move things of greater mass. Which you will be able to do, as soon as you learn to move your own body."

She placed a hand on his chest, "I will. Okay? But not tonight. I just feel too...I'm tired, Damon."

For the first time, sympathy gathered in his eyes, "Magic does take a toll. It has to be replenished."

He let out another sigh, "Fine. But tomorrow, we must press further. You have to be ready before the comet touches the moon's apex."

"Why?" Elena asked, not for the first time, "What is so important about the night of the comet?"

Damon smirked, "I told you, I have plans Elena, big ones."

"That I can't know about?"

He covered her hand with his own, "You will in time. When you are ready."

She bit her lip, "If you say so."

He smiled at the annoyance in her voice.

"Come. I will take you home to your aunt."

* * *

The drive was short, but it gave Elena enough time to think.

Damon was up to something, and it was tied to her.

Or more specifically, her power.

But what could he possibly have in mind?

The whole point of them dying in the past, was to be together now.

She'd seen that much, in his memory of them burning.

So what else did he expect?

If he could successfully restore her memory, they would live, and possibly even be together, as they had been.

She didn't ponder on that possibility long, but it did seem to be Damon's goal.

So what else lay within his mind? Or even her own...

What couldn't she remember?

* * *

Damon pulled into the drive, and Elena noticed how bare it was.

Both Jenna's car, and her own, were missing.

Of course, she'd left school with Stefan, so...

"Damn. My car is at school."

Damon smirked, "Learn how to manipulate yourself through space, and you wouldn't need it."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled as she climbed out of his Camaro.

"Well, you also have a car, magic man."

Damon had gotten out as well.

"I do," he noted, "But only because I am preserving the magic in my blood for you. As you learned tonight, it drains quite easily."

She nodded, then looked behind her at the house.

Most of the lights were off.

Was Jenna even home?

She cleared her throat, "So. I'll, um, see you tomorrow?"

A look crossed Damon's face, enough to darken his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I'm going inside," she motioned behind her, "To bed. I'd thought that was obvious."

Damon was next to her in a breath, so close, their bodies nearly touched.

"Am I to understand that you have already forgotten our conversation from last night?"

His hand brushed back a strand of her hair, and she swallowed.

His irises bored into hers, waiting.

A flash of his promise rushed to the front of her mind.

_Do not mistake me._

_I give you tonight, to clear your head. _

_But tomorrow, I will come to you._

_By nightfall, I plan to have you in my bed, or to find myself in yours. _

_You are mine, Elena. And I will not go another day without claiming you as such._

Elena exhaled.

Oh, she remembered alright.

Her heartbeat sped, as she recognized the look he was now giving her.

He wanted her; he wanted her bad.

The necklace burned at her throat again, and she forced her eyes shut.

"We can't," she swallowed, "You know we can't."

"I _know_ that I love you," he corrected, "I _know_ that I've waited centuries to touch you again. I _know_ that if I have to live one more night knowing Stefan was the last one to have your body, I might-"

"He hasn't," she interrupted, with a slight blush, eyes opening.

Damon's brows pulled together, "Hasn't?"

"I...I haven't been...I'm a virgin, okay?"

Surprise covered his face, "You are?"

She nodded, crossing her arms, "I am."

Slowly, a smile broke across his lips, "No one has touched you."

She was really turning red now, "Look, can we go inside if we are going to continue this, please? I have neighbors."

He nodded, "Of course."

* * *

Focusing on her breathing, Elena turned and pulled out her key to unlock the door.

The fact that it was locked at all proved her suspicions.

Jenna wasn't home.

A note on the kitchen counter was her confirmation.

"Jenna is staying at Duke tonight. Apparently she has a paper to work on, and needed to use their library."

She looked back to find Damon staring at her blankly.

"Duke is the college Jenna takes classes with," Elena explained.

Damon still only stared.

"Are you alright?" She asked finally.

He tilted his head, almost innocently, "We are alone?"

She nodded, and didn't even protest as her words seemed to thaw him, and he strode over to her, taking her in his arms.

His lips were hot against hers, his hands knotting her hair, as he pressed her back into the counter.

Elena moaned into the kiss, not having the strength to do anything else.

The amulet burned, and she wanted him.

With ease, Damon lifted her, until she sat on the countertop, and he moved between her legs.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him further into the kiss.

He growled his approval, and bit at her lip.

Drunk on his breath, she decided to follow her instincts and kissed down his neck.

At the base of it, she smiled against his skin.

The familiarity of the action wasn't lost to her, as she bit him, and his blood once again filled her mouth.

The taste was to be expected, as metallic and bitter as her own blood.

But the power that flowed from him erased the discomfort.

She felt it fuel her, strengthen her, with each pull.

She felt indestructible.

Damon didn't stop her from drinking at his neck, but a few moments later, a sharp pain cut through her bliss, and she pulled away.

Damon had her wrist in his mouth, taking her blood for himself.

Her gaze clouded as she watched him, his eyes never leaving hers.

The amulet at her neck burned uncomfortably now, as if urging her to do something.

She didn't understand it, but she did as Damon had advised, and trusted herself.

She reached up, gripping the necklace.

Damon released her as she did, and watched curiously.

She wasn't sure how she knew what to do, but she didn't even hesitate to raise a finger to Damon's chin, and scoop some of the blood trickling there, her blood, onto her finger.

After doing the same with Damon's blood, running from his neck, she placed it on the amulet.

* * *

Fire.

That's the only way to describe the feeling that coursed through her.

A heat so strong, it blinded her.

She felt as if her heart was being ripped into, and she clung to Damon for life.

Or sanity.

The pain shot to her mind faster than she could keep up, and something inside her molded.

She felt the power within her rise, and through sheer need, or hidden instinct, she pressed it further, knowing somehow that this needed to happen.

The necklace became so hot, she dropped it, but she never felt it touch her neck.

Instead, it hung in the air by it's own magic.

Her confusion was masked by a final slash of pain, before everything went dark.

* * *

She blinked a few times, and Damon came into focus.

She hadn't blacked out, then.

Her vision had just returned.

She took a few settling breathes, before releasing Damon's arms from the death grip she'd had them in.

What in the hell had all that been?

Damon seemed to be wondering the same thing.

"Elena, are you alright?"

But she didn't hear anything past her name.

She couldn't focus on his words.

Not when the sound of his voice was crashing through her like a tidal wave.

Damon.

She looked up, meeting his blue eyed gaze.

Her heart lurched.

"Damon..."

Her voice sounded amazed even to her own ears.

"What is it? What happened?"

She smiled, touching his face.

A jolt shot through her at the contact, baffling her further.

She had never felt this before.

Nothing even close.

It was dangerous, exhilarating, consuming.

It was the purest emotion she'd ever felt.

Love.

Pure, unadulterated, unfiltered, real love.

For the man standing in front of her.

"I don't know," she breathed, trying to absorb this.

"I...I feel you," she told him, "I feel everything."

Hope grew on his face, "Your memories?"

She shook her head, "No, sorry. But do you remember the flashback I told you about? Where I put my blood in the necklace?"

He nodded.

"Well," she smirked, "It worked differently than I thought."

He brushed a hand over her face, "How so?"

"I thought it was this," she lifted the amulet that was once again cool around her throat, "I thought whatever I felt for you, was echoing from this...but it wasn't. The necklace was just...containing it. Our blood released it."

Damon stared at her, "Released what, exactly?"

"The spell," she explained, "The one I bound to the necklace so I wouldn't lose my love for you. I bound it with my blood, mixed with yours. Well, your mother's, but still, yours. By combining our blood again, I unbound my spell...my emotions."

He seemed to follow, "Alright...but what does this mean?"

Carefully, Elena reached up, and unclasped the necklace.

Once it was removed, she jumped from the counter, and placed it in a drawer.

She then backed away.

"Elena-"

"Shh," she commanded, "Wait."

She took a breath, then another.

Nothing changed.

It wasn't the necklace this time.

She looked at Damon, who's eyes were still on her.

Once again, emotion filled her at the sight of him. Strong enough to rob her breath.

"It means," she breathed, "That I _love_ you, Damon."

* * *

He blinked at her, as if running the words through his mind, "You...love me."

She took the easy step toward him, and rested her hands on his chest.

"I don't understand it," she admitted, "But whatever that spell did, it at least gave me my emotions back. What I felt for you...feel for you now. I get it. I don't remember us, but you were right. That before was barely a shadow compared to this. Because what I feel now..." She didn't have the words.

But Damon had caught up, and his smile rivaled the sun.

"It is transcendent," he grabbed her face, "A love that even time will lie down and wait for. You feel it? Truly?"

Elena relaxed into him, taking his hands, "I feel it, Damon. It's the most real thing I've ever felt in my life."

He leaned his head against hers, whispering words that sounded like a prayer, his eyes closing.

* * *

Using the moment to calm herself, Elena considered what this might mean.

The pull she'd felt toward Damon was nothing compared to this.

Whatever this was, she never wanted to be without him.

This scared her as much as it thrilled her.

She focused.

Had she changed in any other way? So quickly?

Not that she could tell.

She still found the thought of murder repulsive.

She still felt anxious about everything that was supposed to happen in the next few days, and she still cared for everyone that she had before, even Stefan.

But this new emotion...Damon was right.

It was transcending, above all others she felt. It was easy to understand why she might have been willing to kill for him.

To die for their love.

She would do what was necessary to keep him safe.

To keep him with her.

"This is overwhelming," she gasped.

Damon smiled, his eyes opening, "It is a blessing beyond worth. You did good, tying the spell to such a powerful object. Even I had not thought to do so."

Elena blushed at the praise, "I did what I had to. I wanted myself to remember this, apparently."

Damon's arms enclosed her waist, "And yet you discovered the unbinding without the aid of past memory. I am in awe."

"You pedestal me," Elena smiled, rolling her eyes, "I'm still me...whoever that is."

Damon's laugh warmed her thoroughly, "Soon, my love, all the pieces of the puzzle will be in place, and we will finally have everything we wanted."

She smirked, "And what do we want?"

A blue gaze studied her, his fingers gripping her hips a little harder.

"Do you really wish to know?"

Elena nodded, "Whatever the endgame to your plan is here, if it involves me, I want to know."

Damon ran a finger down her cheek, "Of course you do."

She waited, her hands still resting on his chest.

When he hesitated, she smiled, leaning forward.

It was easy enough to press a kiss onto his neck, to drag her tongue over the indentions her teeth had made, to make him melt beneath her.

She found that she rather enjoyed the rush of ego it gave her, this feeling of control over him.

"What are you planning, Damon?" She purred into his ear.

She felt his smirk against her cheek, and he gripped her.

"Aurelia."

That made her pause, and Elena pulled away enough to look at him.

"Aurelia?"

Damon nodded, smiling harshly, "I'm going to resurrect her. With the comet's power apexing at the full moon, I can do it. We can do it. We can bring it all back."

* * *

**Cue the "Law and Order" theme song ;)**

**Can't wait to read your reviews! They are always so amazing! **

**Thanks guys! :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey guys! So this one is a little on the short side, compared to the others, but it was needed lol. **

**I hope the wait wasn't too long, and that ya'll enjoy! **

**As usual, I loved all the sweet reviews, and can't wait to hear more! **

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Elena stood completely still, trying to focus.

It was late in the day, but the sun had yet to set.

Her feet settled against the dirt, and as her eyes were closed, she could only hear the sound of the forest around her.

"Breathe, darling," the voice in her ear instructed, "You can do this."

Damon's hands were lingering on her waist, as he directed her body to its intent.

She opened her eyes, and nodded.

Before them was an altar of sorts.

An enormous rock, imbedded in the middle of the woods.

Ronan's body upon it.

Damon had told her that he had brought dead here before, to burn.

Quickest way to dispose of the body.

He had told her a lot actually.

About how to control her power, how to fuel it...the witches he'd killed.

She'd been surprised at first, but with the first ounce of magical blood she'd tasted, it made sense.

And this encounter with Ronan had strengthened her resolve.

She would never put herself in a position to be compromised by a man again.

"You are doing well," he praised in her ear, "So very well."

She had managed to light the altar on fire, Ronan on fire, using the power she had gained from Damon's blood.

He assured her that the blood of a born witch would be much more powerful, but that his would do for now.

"You are learning quickly," Damon added, his arms tightening around her, as they watched the flames rise.

Elena nodded, but once again found herself unable to focus.

Not with her assailant's corpse melting away in front of her.

She swallowed, unable to pull her eyes away from the gruesome sight.

She had taken Ronan's life, but for that, she felt no remorse.

It had been a deserved fate.

But watching the fire consume him; the smell of his burning flesh.

She hadn't been prepared for that.

A glaze of tears clouded her vision, and she looked away.

She couldn't help it.

"Elena," Damon's voice was low, commanding.

She felt his hand under her chin, and he lifted her head so she once again stared at the fire.

Her back was against his chest, so she couldn't see his face, but his voice was calm as he spoke.

"I know it is difficult. But you must watch it all. His life is the first you've taken, and you will always remember that. Death is no different than love, really. It is fast, consuming. And you must keep your eyes open, or you will lose yourself in it. You can not look away. It must be endured. Do you understand?"

Weakly, she nodded.

She did understands his words.

She understood that death, like love, could change a person irrevocably.

And both had changed her.

She had been innocent when she arrived, naive, even.

A child.

But the weeks that had passed had taught her something that no instructor could have.

That she was in control of her own fate.

That she was more than a pawn in the war games, strategized by men with more power over her life than she had herself.

She had a choice.

So she watched.

From Damon's embrace, she watched until the flames consumed everything they could before burning out, leaving nothing but ash and charred bones behind.

Then, with Damon's hand in her own, she walked back to the castle.

The sun set in the hills behind them.

* * *

Over the next few days, Elena found it surprisingly easy to lie.

Everyone was looking for an explanation of the mysterious disappearance of Ronan de Guildar of Valier, advisor to the crown.

King Salvatore had been displeased to learn of the man's absence upon his return, and had sent out Stefan, along with several search parties, to scour the villages for him.

Weeks passed, and nothing was found.

Though it didn't stop the concerns.

Elena quietly ate her dinner as Stefan and the king discussed the issues that the man's disappearance was causing for Aurelia, and Mystic.

After all, Ronan was sent to reassure Valier that the joining of the two kingdoms would cause no chaos.

Neither of the men had acknowledged her since after their greeting.

"They surely can not believe we are responsible," Stefan shot at his father, "Ronan could have gone anywhere."

"No horse was taken, Stefan," the king pointed out, as a servant refilled his glass, "And Ronan de Guildar was of royal blood. It is natural that Valier will want to seek out any possible explanation. The man went missing while staying in our home. It is our duty to discover the truth of his departure."

"Of course, Father," Stefan caved, bowing his head loyally, "We shall start another search tomorrow. First thing in the morning."

Elena sighed, spinning her fork around her plate aimlessly.

"Start tonight," a voice called, and Elena jumped, as Damon entered the room, "You still wouldn't find him."

Stefan stood, clearly not expecting the intrusion, and held his chin high, "What are you doing here?"

Elena watched as Damon grinned at his brother, "Am I banned from my own dinner table now?"

He sidestepped Stefan, and took the seat next to him, across from Elena.

"Good evening, Father," his smile broadened as he crossed his arms behind his head confidently, "How are things?"

Elena had never seen Damon interact with the king before, and a layer of ice leaked from the glare his father gave him.

"I was not expecting you here," the king stated, composed.

"And yet, here I am," Damon sat up, as another servant brought him out a plate of food, "It is unfortunate that our dear guest can not say the same."

Elena bit her lip at his comment.

What was he doing, bringing that up?

Her heartbeat jumped, but a quick, unnoticeable wink from Damon calmed her a little.

He was not ignorant.

She could trust that he knew what he was doing.

"What is your meaning?" Stefan pressed.

Damon forked a slice of ham, almost absentmindedly.

As if he hadn't just interrupted a political discussion of Aurelia's future, between two people he tried to keep minimal contact with, on a usual day.

"Only that it seems a bit too convenient that Valier should show up, in fear of our power, only to have their scout disappear," he explained offhandedly.

"And you are suggesting, what, exactly?" The king asked, his gaze hard as he stared at his eldest son.

It was clear what he thought of him.

Damon carried his same air of ease, "That perhaps Valier is a bit smarter than you credit them. Perhaps Ronan de Guildar is perfectly fine, sitting warmly in his cousin's castle while Valier's king forces Aurelia to take the fall for the man's absence."

King Salvatore smirked slightly, reminding Elena of Damon a bit, when he was amused or taunting.

"I never assumed you were one for politics, Damon. I must say that I'm impressed."

Damon lost a bit of his arrogance, and his mouth twitched in annoyance.

"There is much you have never assumed, Father, which is perhaps why I am able to see this more clearly. Valier fears that once we have control of Mystic, our forces could destroy them. It's logical that they would try to take us down now, before we are strengthened with King Petrova's army."

Stefan chuckled, "Is this what you do all day? Theorize attack plans from our neighboring kingdoms?"

Damon looked over his brother, "Only when I have suspicions."

"And you suspect this?" Giuseppe scoffed.

"The black mare I purchased weeks ago has gone missing. It is of no coincidence that Ronan has as well."

"I was not notified of the thievery of the horse." The king grit, taken off guard.

"It was my animal," Damon reasoned simply, "I investigated the matter on my own."

Giuseppe eyed him, then nodded.

"I shall look into this, then. War with Valier is the last thing we need."

Elena exhaled as Damon winked at her, again, from across the table.

The bastard had done it.

Completely freed her of the deed, and sent the heat in the opposite direction.

After all, what was more distracting to a king than the possibility of war?

She smirked at him.

* * *

"That was risky," she chided, once dinner was over and the two of them had made it to the second floor.

Damon only grinned, "It was worth it just to rattle my father and loving brother. It had been years since I've joined them for a meal. But also, it should clear them from our trail."

Elena shook her head, "You are most certainly the bravest, and most stupid person I know."

"Most likely," he agreed, pulling her into him, "But you must admit that it is part of my charm."

She chuckled, "I will admit no such thing. But I must ask, if Ronan is dead, who stole your mare?"

She meant it as a joke, but Damon sobered.

"Damon?" She pressed.

"The mare is as Ronan is. No trace will be found of her either."

Elena blinked, "You killed your horse. Why?"

Damon truly seemed to like the animal.

He pulled away slightly, "An unfortunate necessity. I needed her heart."

"Her heart?" Elena repeated.

"For a spell," Damon explained, "When you drank from me, my magic was drained. I need to find another witch, but none of my locator spells are finding anything, because of Emily. She's too close, and her magic is strong. It hinders my readings."

Elena considered that.

"So what will this new spell do?"

Damon took her hand, "It will force out the reading I get from Emily, so that I can sense the next witch within vicinity."

Elena stared at him.

"You will kill her then, the next witch?"

Damon sighed, "She will fight me, they always do, and she might win. None have yet, but it is always fair. I am simply stronger. Better. So I win. It is not about the sacrifice, my love, it is the magic. And what it can give us."

Elena considered that, "Is the death necessary?"

Damon's head tilted, "Unless you'd prefer the witch to speak of the incidents to others. I am not sure of you, but personally, I find the gallows an unpleasant idea. Then of course, knowing my father, he'd just have me burned at the stake. Much more of a scandal. Unless I could redirect his thoughts, as I did tonight. It is almost embarrassing, how easy they are to manipulate."

Elena shook her head, chuckling, "Are you never serious?"

"Oh, I am," he promised, "But enough of that. I will ask you to accompany me. The spell must be finished, soon, and I could use this opportunity to instruct you."

Elena nodded, "Of course...though I am sorry about your horse."

Damon didn't even blink.

"As am I."

* * *

Emily Bennett sat in the servants corridors, tapping her foot nervously.

Worry filled her for the princess.

Elena was as close to a friend as she had, yet the girl had not heeded her warning.

Emily could sense her lady's involvement with dark magic.

Her connection to it strengthening with each passing day.

She knew it was because of him.

Damon Salvatore.

The eldest prince of Aurelia.

Emily could feel the darkness in him.

It's strength frightened her.

She knew how his magic came to him.

She knew what he was.

Shadowcasters were an unfortunate parasite to witches, feeding on their blood like the children of the night.

But she didn't feel that it was blood Damon Salvatore was after.

His soul was stained with the dark of his deeds.

A blackness so thick, blood consumption alone could not have caused it.

He had murdered. A lot.

He had killed her kind for their magic.

The princess's closeness to the man was the only reason Emily had let him live.

That, and the intensity of the magic she felt radiate from him.

How many witches had he killed?

How much of their blood, their magic, did he carry?

She couldn't be sure.

But she was a patient woman; she could wait until the time was right.

She would have to get Elena away from him before she too grew too corrupt.

Emily knew the price for a servant turning on their master.

She hoped it was an avoidable outcome, but just in case, she would cast a few protection spells.

It pained her to need them.

To think that Elena, the one who had saved her by keeping her secret, could put her in danger.

For him.

Emily wasn't sure what the princess wouldn't do for Damon.

And she prayed she wouldn't have to find out.

* * *

**:)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey guys!**

**Okay first, please don't kill me for the delay! A bunch of crazy has been going on.**

**But I am still doing the story and thought I'd let ya'll know that it is NOT on hiatus or anything.**

**But I've just been able to stop and focus on it.**

**I reread the chapters today and I realized something.**

**I had a pretty good idea where I was taking this plot, but a few new ideas came into my head, that I think might actually be more interesting.**

**But I'm super stuck on which to go with, hence the delay.**

**Now I wish I could have you all vote on one plot or another, but that would ruin it lol.**

**So I'm asking, if ya'll will, review me with your thoughts/ideas, or where you would like to see the story go.**

**I'm hoping some of these might be close to one of the plots I have in mind, and give me a nudge in the right direction to take.**

**Thank you all soooo much, and I really really hope you respond! Can't wait!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Okay guys, got this chapter wrote. **

**Thank you for the ideas and giving me your opinions.**

**Most of you seem to enjoy the dark Delena, which is great, and I have a better outline for how I'm going to get to the ending I have planned now. **

**Again, thanks so much, and I hope ya'll enjoy. **

* * *

**_Present Day _**

* * *

Elena watched Damon's face as the sunlight seeping in from the window cascaded across it.

They laid on her couch, tangled in each other, Damon still asleep.

She decided that she liked him like this.

All of his hard lines smoothed, and what was left in his relaxed expression was almost childlike...innocent.

She trailed her fingers up to his bangs, brushing them back gently.

He was so beautiful in his sleep.

Idly, she wondered how many mornings she'd seen him like this, in the past.

How many moments she couldn't remember.

There had to be thousands.

Thousands of little moments like this that made this love she felt grow so strongly.

She didn't understand it, but for once, she was okay with that.

It was enough to know that she did love him.

The "why" could be answered later.

As her fingertips lingered on his cheek, Damon's eyes fluttered, and soon those blue irises were boring into her.

She smiled.

"Good morning."

Instead of answering, Damon kissed her.

It was slow, building, and so full of their love that she thought her heart might burst.

His mouth was almost lazy, as it left hers and trailed across her face, leaving small kisses all over.

She leaned against him even further, and his arms twisted around her tighter.

"Good morning."

She chuckled, "Well it is now."

Damon pulled away and looked at her, as of searching for something in her expression.

She didn't know how exactly, but she understood what he needed.

"I still feel it Damon, don't worry. I still love you."

He sighed, but a smile tugged at his mouth, "I'm glad."

Elena maneuvered them so she could sit up, without knocking Damon to the floor.

She ran a hand over her hair then looked around.

Sunlight was seeping in through the window, and she was briefly reminded of school.

That place she was supposed to be at right now, but she found that she really couldn't care.

After all, she had just discovered that she'd lived an entire other life, and that her boyfriend was actually the brother of her true love, trying to help keep them apart, and that said love was wanting to raise an ancient kingdom from it's ashes.

So yeah, she felt that she deserved to skip a day of classes to compensate.

Staring at the light splaying out on the floor, from the sun, Elena grew curious.

"Damon?"

She felt him sit up, and a kiss was placed on her shoulder, "What is it, darling?"

She turned to look at him, "Last night...you said you were going to bring it all back. That we could. But...what exactly did you mean by that? I mean, it's obviously not the 21st century, and I'm pretty sure politics, and police, and the civilian population involved aren't going to exactly bend to the will of an ancient monarchy," she smirked to herself, "I mean, unless you were just planning on raising the whole castle from the ground and-"

Damon's eyebrow rose, and Elena faltered, "Unless that's exactly what you're planning. Are you serious? You're going to bring the castle back? Don't you think someone will find that strange or alarming, or the least bit curious?!"

Damon laughed lowly, "I'm sure that they will. But it's alright Elena," he took her hand in his, "You may not remember it, but we had a plan. Your exact words, I believe, were something around "the house of Petrova will rise upon a new Aurelia" in the place which my brother lay waiting until such a time when you and I could rule again. Together, as we were denied in our true day."

Elena blinked, "Okay...so how did we plan to do this without turning Mystic Falls into a modern day Salem?"

Damon was smirking now, "You trust me. That's all you have to do."

"I want to," she admitted, "But I need more, Damon. I need to know what the plan is."

"Tonight," he assured her, "We will bring back your memory, and everything will make sense again."

"You could just tell me," she noted, and he grinned, "Where's the fun in that?"

* * *

She was about to retort when a knock sounded at the door.

She untangled herself from Damon quickly, and pulled herself up.

She motioned for him to be quiet, just in case it was Jenna or something.

However, when she looked out the peephole, she found Stefan waiting on the other side.

She opened the door enough to see him, but still blocking the living room from his view.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, realizing as she stared at him that she really felt nothing.

Whatever this thing was she had with Damon outshone anything she may have felt for Stefan.

"You weren't at school," he explained, "I...I just thought that..."

Annoyance flashed through her as Stefan's gaze shot behind her, searching.

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her, and crossed her arms.

"If you're going to ask, ask."

It was clear what she meant, and Stefan sighed, "I don't have to ask. I can smell him all over you. I know he's here."

"And you came anyway?"

His jaw set, "I care about you Elena. And even if I didn't love you, you're still too good for him."

"That's a matter of opinion, Stefan. I remember things. I remember you having us killed. I remember loving him...I do love him."

"Elena, listen to me. Damon is a monster. He'll use you to get what he wants and-"

"And what?" She snapped, "Lie to me? Pretend to be something he isn't? News flash, he's never done either of those. Damon had been nothing but honest with me, though I can't say the same for you!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He said in a harsh whisper, "You're unable to stand against his influence. Whatever Damon wants somehow always ends up given him, and it won't be long before he wants to kill. Before he wants blood. What are you going to do then? Let him? Help him?"

"Stop!" Elena demanded, "I'm still me, Stefan. I'm not going to kill anyone."

"Elena, you don't even know who _you_ is. This is exactly how he does it. Gets you to trust him so he can get his claws into you, then it's too late. He wants everyone to be as bad as he is, and he won't stop."

Elena ran a hand down her face.

This was getting them nowhere.

She cared about Stefan, she did, but Damon...Damon was everything now.

Still, what she had said was true.

She wasn't a murderer; she wasn't evil.

She didn't believe Damon was either though. Not evil.

She had seen him smile, had felt the intensity of which he loved her.

That had to come from somewhere good.

"Damon is trying to figure this out as much as I am," she told him, "I'm not naive, Stefan. I know he's planning something, after he restores my memory. But I also know that I won't be able to understand what I'm feeling until I get them back. Until I do know who I am, or who I am now. I have to know. So please, trust me."

"I want to, Elena," he said earnestly, "But if you've let him in this far, I don't know that he won't change your mind again. You've already let him into your bed, how much more-"

"No, nothing happened," she defended, "Last night...it wasn't like that. I didn't sleep with him."

"But you want to," Stefan reasoned, "I can smell the desire in your blood, I can feel it. And it's only a matter of time before Damon gets his way there too."

She shook her head, "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I'm doing the best I can here, and tonight, I'm hoping the rest of the puzzle pieces will fall into place. Until then, I can't talk to you about this. About Damon. Because it's getting nowhere, and I don't even know what our points are. So can we wait?"

"If we wait, it'll be too late. You can bet that Damon knows what he's doing. He has a plan. You both did. And God help us all if he pulls it off."

Elena bit her lip, "Just go, Stefan. Please."

He eyed her for a second, then shook his head, "Fine. But try to remember this life, okay? When your past is shoved down your throat, try to remember why you care about human life at all."

Then he was gone.

Elena blinked, then sighed.

* * *

"That was interesting," Damon stated, as she walked through the door.

He had moved from the couch to the kitchen, where something was now cooking.

"You heard?" She asked, walking through the living room.

"I know a spell," he admitted.

She smirked, "Of course you do...but it's not good, is it? To use all that magic?"

"I have a stock in my cabin," he admitted, adding something to a pan.

Elena realized he was making pancakes.

"A stock?"

He nodded, "Of blood. Do you prefer blueberries or chocolate chip?"

She stared at him, "Blueberry...more blood?"

He sighed, "It's from the same witch that I told you about. I haven't killed anyone else."

She didn't feel relief, "But you will. Whatever your plan is in bringing Aurelia back...that's going to require a lot of magic."

He nodded, "When the time comes."

She grit her teeth, "You can't expect me to be okay with that."

He flipped the pancake, "I don't expect anything, Elena. Once your memories are returned this will all be pointless.

You will remember the plan and why we so desperately needed it."

"I thought the plan was for us to be together? I'm getting my memory back tonight, mission accomplished. Why does anyone else have to die?"

Damon moved the pancakes onto a plate and looked at her, "Don't tell me that you're letting my brother get to you. His morality compass is beyond broken, and since turning, he's probably taken more lives than the two of us combined. Not that he'd admit it. All the energy he wastes trying to be good, when he could embrace what he is instead, and have a little fun."

"Killing people isn't fun, Damon," Elena pushed.

He smirked, "It is if you're good at it."

She groaned, "I don't want to live like this. I don't want to be this!"

"You already are this," he assured her, "You just don't remember. But tonight, that changes. Tonight, we get you back."

He kissed her head and placed the plate in front of her, "Now eat up. We have a lot to do, before tonight."

* * *

**Mostly dialogue, but important lol.**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**So I actually really like how this chapter turned out! :)**

**It's another past chapter and things are definitely moving along there lol. **

**I read more of your ideas today, and I really appreciate the opinions guys, seriously, you're amazing! **

**I'll do what I can to keep ya'll happy with me lol, but I'm gonna go ahead and tell you that unfortunately, and maybe a little SPOILER, the smut stuff will mainly be in the past chapers.**

**I know a lot of ya'll really want some present day "M" action, but I have my reasons ;)**

**Anyway, keep leaving these awesome reviews and I'll keep posting awesome chapters lol. **

**Til next time! XOXO**

* * *

_**September 1567**_

* * *

The castle halls we're cold with the crisp air seeping through every possible knick and crane.

Fall had settled in with a force, and winter would soon follow.

Once upon a time, this might have mattered to Elena.

The approaching winter months meant the new year would soon be upon them.

Her wedding with it.

But such things no longer troubled her.

Not when she had grown so exponentially in her power.

Strong enough to make sure the wedding never happened.

Strong enough to choose her own fate.

"Very good."

Damon's praise was a purr in her ear as she once again drew upon the magic inside of her, and with very little effort, lifted everything in the room inches from the ground.

The furniture hovered around them, and Damon smirked, "You hardly need even to try anymore."

Elena smiled at him, letting everything fall back to its proper place.

"I have an excellent instructor," she teased him, using her mind to light the candles around the room.

"This might be true," he allowed, "But it must be said. You're a natural at this. With enough practice, you may even surpass me."

She laughed, as he pulled her to him, "I fear I require much more practice before that could even be a possibility. I have seen your power, Damon. It is incomparable."

He seemed proud of that, "Would you like me to show you what else I can do with my magic?"

Elena quickly recognized the darkening look in his eyes, "Oh I believe I have witnessed you to the fullest extent, my love. However, a reminder has never injured."

Damon smirked before kissing her.

His mouth against her own was like a signal to the rest of her body.

It had learned what to expect when Damon touched her this way, and had no problem giving him exactly what he asked of it.

Her back met his mattress as he removed the layers of her dress with a hurried agitation.

She knew he hated the damn things, but she found amusement in watching him struggle with the fabric, before eventually ripping it from her.

Which is exactly what he did, after only seconds of fumbling, leaving her front exposed to him from neck to navel.

"Better," he muttered, almost to himself, as he pulled the remains from her skin, revealing more of her body to his starving gaze.

"You are overdressed, my prince," Elena teased, pulling against Damon's shirt.

He halted his exploration to help her remove the offensive material, and soon they were both naked in the sheets.

Their lovemaking was slow tonight, as Damon kissed all over her body, before ever feeling her slick heat.

When his fingers finally did find themselves against her core, he groaned.

"You are so ready for me, darling."

Elena rubbed herself against his hand, craving more of his touch.

"So eager," his husky voice sounded pleased.

"Damon," she urged, wanting more.

He kissed her neck, resting his head there as he slid his arm back to grab her leg, and hook it around his waist.

She understood that to be his way of saying "Hold on to something."

She smiled into his hair, her body burning as she gripped his shoulders.

Damon's hardened desire brushed against her teasingly, then slid between her folds, easily finding her entrance.

With one thrust, he was buried inside of her, enticing all nerves in her skin to fire.

Slowly he pulled back, then slammed home again with a satisfying thud as their bodies connected.

Again and again he did this, until Elena was robbed of breath and rolling through more waves of pleasure than she could stand.

With her hands buried in his hair, their foreheads pressed together, she came again.

The fifth, maybe sixth time of the night.

But this time, Damon shuddered above her, his movement quickening.

His body tensed as his release hit him, and Elena lifted her head to bite into his neck, intensifying his pleasure.

A few faltering thrusts later, Damon collapsed, rolling over to give them both some air.

Elena chuckled slightly as they breathed and Damon smiled over at her.

This was what they lived for now.

These moments.

When it was just the two of them, drunk on the love they felt for each other, without any outside complications.

"I love you," Damon told her, the lights from the candles reflecting off his gleaming body.

Elena rolled over so she could lay against his shoulder.

"I love you too, Damon."

* * *

They laid there for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the fire light dance against the dome ceiling.

The sound of Damon's heartbeat, and the gentle whoosh of his breathing, calmed her.

She had almost drifted off to sleep when he spoke.

"Elena?"

She lifted her head to see him, "Yes?"

He seemed to deliberate something, before asking, "Tomorrow night...I have to leave for a while."

She leaned up now, "For how long?"

"Just for the evening," he promised, "There is a sort of dinner party for people like me...people like us. Shadowcasters who meet in secret. They are expecting me."

She crooked her head, "There are more out there?"

Damon smiled, "Of course. And I would like for you to come with me."

"To the dinner party?" Elena confirmed.

Damon nodded, "It is very discreet. No one else will know of your attendance. I swear it."

She bit her lip, "What will I tell Stefan and the king?"

"Nothing," Damon instructed, "They needn't know you are missing. We will leave after they have retired for bed."

Elena ran over his words, "That is rather late for a dinner party, is it not?"

Damon's signature smirk played across his mouth, "This is not your average dinner, darling."

Her raised brow prodded him, and he sighed, "There will be others like us there. Others that feed on witches' blood to gain power.

Some keep the witches as servants, some keep them to warm their beds, if not otherwise mated. Blood is shared among these groups, as are bodies. It is nothing like you have ever experienced."

Elena blushed a little at what he was telling her.

What she understood it to mean.

"You wish me to come?"

Damon brushed his fingers against her cheek, "It would greatly please me if you did."

She blushed harder as she asked, "And what if someone wants you to share me?"

Damon smiled again, unbothered, "Do you trust me?"

Slowly she nodded.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," he promised.

She couldn't help but smile back at his entertained expression.

"Alright then. I suppose I could join you."

Damon laughed softly, and leaned in to kiss her.

The conversation was forgotten for the rest of the night.

* * *

Morning came too soon.

Elena groaned as the sunlight hit her face from the high window, but knew that her time alone with Damon was up for the day.

She would have to be back in her wing of the castle before joining Stefan and the king for breakfast.

She wondered if Damon would be joining them today.

Since his self invitation to dinner the previous week, Damon had made a habit of dropping into random meals unannounced.

He seemed to find pleasure in sitting at the table, making small talk, while his father and brother squirmed uncomfortably.

She could only shake her head and politely respond to any questions he directed toward her.

They had gotten good at pretending to be strangers.

Ironic, since Damon probably knew her better than anyone else in Aurelia and Mystic alike.

Elena pulled herself up, giggling as Damon tightened his arm around her in complaint.

"I have to go," she told him.

"No," he pouted, eyes still closed, face buried into his pillow.

"Yes," she argued, "If I am late for breakfast again, suspicions will rise."

He groaned, "Yes, yes, alright then."

His eyes opened and he propped himself up, "But kiss me first."

She smiled, happily obliging.

Her lips lingered against his, and he cupped her cheek, "Soon, my love, we will not have to hide."

Her eyes closed, "I pray for the hour that is so."

"As do I," he promised, "But for now..."

She nodded, "I will see you tonight then."

"I will be waiting."

She kissed him again, then stood to get dressed.

* * *

It took Elena very little time to make it back to her room.

Emily waited for her there, dutifully, with a tub filled with warmed water.

Elena smiled at her gratefully, "You are truly a mind reader."

Emily curtseyed her respectively, before moving to help strip her dress.

"I hope your night was a pleasant one," the maid commented.

Elena nodded, sinking into the water, "As of late, they all have been."

She didn't miss Emily's stiff nod, and passive expression.

"You still worry about Damon?" Elena guessed, "Have I not told you? There is little chance of discovery. Nothing is going to happen to me."

Emily swallowed, "If I may, my lady, something already has."

Elena gave her a questioning look, "What is your meaning?"

Seeming as though she had to work up the nerve, Emily sighed, and sat on the edge of the bed as Elena sponged herself clean.

"I have tried to tell you, your highness, the prince is no good. He has dark magic in himself, my lady, dark magic he is infecting on to you. I can feel it. I have seen it. He will be your end."

Elena rolled her eyes, standing to grab a drying cloth which she then wrapped around herself, "Emily, your concern is misplaced. Damon is not a threat to me. He loves me."

"He knows not the meaning of the word!" Emily pressed heatedly, "He knows only the hunger for power and what he is willing to do to get it!"

Elena blinked, turning to look at her servant, "Damon is a lot of things, but do not compare him to the likes of the men who are truly thirsting for power. The reasoning behind my presence in this castle is men like my father, like King Salvatore, like _Stefan_, thirsting for more power. Damon is nothing like them."

"No, my lady," Emily breathed, "He is much worse. And you be heading down a path to destruction, spending your time with the likes of him. If you were found out-"

"But I _will_ _not_ be found out," Elena hissed, stepping closer to Emily, "Only three people alive know of my relationship with Damon. He is not going to tell, nor will I. So if by some mishap, Stefan, the king, or even my father was to hear about this, I will know from whose tongue it span, and do not think for a moment that I will not throw you to wolves if you dare threaten my ability to be with Damon."

"Your highness, I only meant that-"

"I know what you meant," Elena snapped, "And I am telling you that I will have you outed and burned at the stake for the witch you are before your tongue could form another story to defend your practice. Then once you are dead, your accusation will no longer hold believable, and all will be forgiven and pawned off as a lie told by the mouth of a devil's pawn. So for your sake, as much as mine, you will keep your tongue, as you have been, and see all knowledge of my time with Damon wiped from memory, do I make myself clear?"

Her servant's eyes were wide as she nodded, but Elena did not feel guilty.

Emily may not like Damon, but no one, not even her handmaiden was going to jeapordize her love for the eldest Salvatore.

She would see them dead first.

"Good," she swallowed, "Now, be a doll and fetch my lavender dress; I would wear it today."

Wordlessly, Emily obeyed, for the first time, out of fear of her master, instead of respect for her friend.

* * *

**Woot woot.**

**Okay, some backbone Elena lol. **

**I really hope ya'll like the chapter and can't wait to hear your thoughts! **

**Oh, and if one of you miraculouslyrics guesses my ending before it happens, I will give you a cookie!**

**Not a real cookie.**

**A proverbial cookie.**

**A double chocolate chip proverbial cookie.**

**And a shout out lol**


	29. Chapter 29

**Okay, finally got this finished! **

**Hope you all had a happy 4th of July!**

**Anyway, I really think ya'll will like this one, and it's a good push to the rest of the story.**

**A turning point, if you will ;)**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

_**Present Day **_

* * *

_"Elena Gilbert! This is the third message I've left you! I mean it, if you are not dying, you better be at school this afternoon for practice! Don't bail on me!"_

Caroline's shrill voice was giving Elena a headache as she erased yet another message.

"Is that the blonde cheerleader?" Damon asked, amused.

Elena nodded, "Caroline. She can be a bit...bossy."

Damon smirked, "I find it hard to believe you would let anyone tell you what to do."

She deleted the following message as well.

"I wish I knew what to tell her. Bonnie called me too, when she stopped by her Grams. I just can't deal with them right now."

Damon nodded, "This situation is complex. It's rational to think they might not understand."

She bit her lip, sitting on the couch, "It's not just that. Well, it is. But it's not. I just feel like the less people involved in all of this, the better."

"Perhaps you're right," Damon nodded, "But you also must consider the facts. If our plan works tonight, things are going to change.

Perhaps you should go to your practice. Have a normal afternoon with your friend."

Elena considered that, "But what about you?"

He smiled, kissing her, "I have things to prepare for myself. I could meet you back here this evening?"

She was tempted, "If I go, Caroline will expect me to stay for the game."

Damon smirked, "Don't you worry about that, darling. I will take care of everything. I promise."

She nodded.

"Alright then. I guess it couldn't hurt to go."

"That's the spirit," he praised, "Go change. I will drive you."

She smiled, then hurried to do as he said.

* * *

Caroline was on a warpath when Elena finally came running up to the practice field, having stopped at the locker room to grab her pompoms.

"There you are!" The blonde squealed, running over, "Please tell me Bonnie is with you!"

"No, sorry," Elena told her.

"Oh my god," Caroline groaned, "She better be on her way! She promised she'd be here and she still hasn't shown. The game is tonight! I need all hands on deck!"

Elena rolled her eyes, "Care, it'll be fine. Just give her a little more time."

"Whatever. At least _you_ made it. Get in position and we'll run through the plays again."

"Whatever you say, captain," Elena smirked, doing as she was told.

She caught a glimpse of the football players practicing across the field and wondered if Stefan was among them.

It seemed silly now, for him to be.

Assuming the only reason he'd even joined was to fit in while he grew closer to her.

She bit her lip.

Her life had changed so much, in such a short time.

Mere days ago, she had had everything she'd thought she'd need.

Friends, Jenna, boyfriend, good grades, involved in quite a few extra curricular activities, but now...

Now she had Stefan, a vampire whom she'd been engaged to in a past life, and Damon, an immortal witch with whom she shared a love consuming enough to die for.

And oh, she loved him.

But she couldn't help but wonder exactly what he was planning.

How would things be different after tonight?

When she remembered everything, who would she be?

What would she be?

Hell, even now, she wasn't sure what she was.

These things Damon had taught her...they were so strange, yet so magical.

And tonight, she would have full knowledge of her power.

Was she ready for that?

Was Mystic Falls?

And what about Damon's plan to raise the city? To raise Aurelia.

Her nerves tightened.

In a past life, she'd prophesied her rising. Her dynasty's beginning as she ruled Aurelia with Damon.

But was she not also the princess of Mystic then? Was she not raised in Mystic Falls in this life.

She couldn't help but feel torn.

Where would her loyalties lie, in the end?

* * *

An hour later, Bonnie Bennett let a silent tear fall down her cheek.

She didn't know where she was, or who had taken her, after a knock on the head had rendered her unconscious.

Even now, something covered her eyes, blocking her vision.

She pulled her arms again, but something was restraining her to a flat surface.

Panic welled inside her chest, but she tried to breathe.

She tried to think.

Who would want to hurt her?

Where could she be?

How long was she unconscious?

But she didn't have any answers.

She cried more earnestly now, unable to distinguish even a noise or smell to give away her location.

She wanted to scream, but something told her that that would be a bad idea.

If someone was around her, if her captor was close by, did she really want to draw their attention. What if they killed her?

Another wave of panic washed over her at the thought.

Screw it! If they heard her, they heard her.

"Help me!" She screamed, "Somebody, please! Help me!"

* * *

Stefan knew he shouldn't be here.

He knew how much trouble it would cause for him, if Damon returned.

But this lone castle, out in the middle of the woods, is where Damon had spent most his time.

If there was any information of Damon's intent, it would be here.

It had been nothing to break the lock on the door.

Damon's spell, however, a little trickier to work against, but eventually, he'd found a way around it.

Stefan looked around the room.

It wasn't much different than it had been when Elena had been there.

Thinking of her sealed his determination.

He loved her.

He really did.

But he knew his brother.

He knew that Damon would be planning something big, and he wasn't going to be enough to stop him.

And when Elena recovered her memories...whatever their plan, he needed to know.

He needed to stop them.

Half a millennium alone will teach you a lot about life.

About humanity.

Stefan could not let his brother carry out whatever plan he'd waited 500 years for.

And hopefully he could do so without having to kill Damon, again.

He had learned his lesson in being the monster, and he hated it.

Damon fit that title much easier.

If course, it seems Damon would find great pleasure in bringing Stefan down to his level. To destroy him.

To make them the same.

_Monsters_.

But Stefan would not allow it.

He moved around the room, lifting papers and books, searching.

Surely something relaying information would be lying somewhere.

But after a good search through each room, the most interesting thing he found was a map, Aurelia's ruins circled on it, and an outline of the weekend's celestial events.

Among them was a flyer for the town's "Night of the comet" event on the square.

Now he only had more questions, and no one to answer them.

Unless...

Placing everything back where he found it, Stefan made up his mind.

He would have to talk to Elena.

She's the only person Damon would tell anything to, and maybe, just maybe, she still trusted him enough to spill something.

* * *

He left the cabin, checking the door before turning toward his car, oblivious to the spell silenced screams echoing from the basement below.

* * *

**Bit of a cliffy there, but necessary ;)**

**Can't wait to see what you think! **

**Oh, and if you haven't yet, check out my new story! **

**"Do you believe in angels?"**

**:)**


	30. Chapter 30

**Heyy, so I finally got this chapter finished.**

**Hope ya'll like it!**

* * *

_**August 1567**_

* * *

Darkness fell relativity quick that night.

Dinner was as slow and boring as ever, with all the talk of war and political views.

Elena had completely tuned out the conversation, in hopes of it soon ending.

Eventually, it had, and she'd dismissed herself.

Emily waited in her chambers, a dress in hand.

There was a stiffness in the way the girl carried herself now, and Elena knew it was because of their last argument.

She did not allow it to bother her though.

She had gotten her point across and that was all that had mattered.

"What is this?" She asked, closing the door to her room as she eyed the gown in her maiden's hand.

"His highness dropped it off for you. He left a note," Emily explained.

Elena reached out to touch the shimmering fabric.

The black silk flowed through her fingers like a waterfall of onyx.

She exhaled, "What does the note read?"

"I did not open it, my lady," Emily bowed her head holding the rolled parchment out, "I assumed it private."

Elena smiled, taking it, "Kind of you. Very well, that will be all for the evening. You may take leave."

With a bow, Emily slipped away.

The greater of Elena's attention, however, was on the letter Damon had left for her.

* * *

_Elena, _

_Consider this gown a token of my appreciation for you accompanying me tonight. _

_I can not wait to see it on your body. _

_On my floor._

_I look forward to our evening beyond these walls._

_All my love, _

_Damon_

* * *

She smiled at the words, reading them over again, heart filling with love for her dark prince.

Her excitement grew.

She had no idea what to anticipate for the night ahead, but Damon had promised that it would be an evening unlike any she'd ever experience.

And Damon had yet to break a promise to her.

Quickly stripping her layered, plain dress, Elena held up Damon's gift.

It was made of fine silk but had a stretch pattern in its bodice she had never seen.

Her fingers grazed over it for a moment, before she decided to slip it on.

It fit perfectly.

As she moved to examine herself in the tall mirror, she thought that maybe it was a little too perfect to be natural.

Maybe Damon had spelled it?

The curves hugged her to the point that she felt naked.

The material seemed thin enough, with it's single layer.

No more than the translucent sheer of the sleeping gowns she wears for Damon at night.

Only she could see none of her skin, where the fabric covered her.

It was a strapless bodice, that curved her breast far too deeply to be considered decent, and showed far too much of her back, even though the black silk fell loose from her waist.

The thigh length slits on each side made it easy to move, and showed flashes off her flesh as she turned.

If one thing was certain, Damon wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her, and because of that, she had to love the dress.

With a smile, she reached to her dresser, picking up the necklace Damon had given her.

The magic amulet of his mother's power.

She only took it off before meals, when she was sure to see the king, in fear that he would recognize it.

Not likely.

But no reason to make him needlessly suspicious.

She donned the latch and let the jewel fall to her throat, hanging perfectly above the line of the dress.

The red stone seemed to glow, most likely reflecting light from the fire behind her, but Elena liked to think that maybe it was more.

This necklace, this power, it was a way to a new life.

To freedom.

* * *

She waited until the clock chimed ten times, before summoning her magic, as Damon had shown her.

It was fairly simple, now that she had practiced, and the world around her span.

Within a second, she was in Damon's room.

She found him, kneeling in front of his alter, his eyes closed, shirtless, chanting quietly.

His skin was covered in hand-drawn red markings.

She had witnessed this a few times, and knew better than to interrupt.

So she watched instead.

There was a symbol drawn on the ground around him; an intricate of circles, where he kneeled in the middle.

From the darkened color, she'd guess they were drawn in blood, as were the ones on his body.

His chanting grew faster, and the bowl in front of him rose,seemingly on its own.

Inside of it, was a heart, human.

As Damon's words rose to a shout, the bowl's contents combusted, fire sparking as it dropped, clattering in front of him.

Damon fell silent, his eyes opening.

After a deep breath, he grabbed the heart from the bowl.

It was darkened from the flames, but still oozing the life source of the witch from whom it was taken.

Elena took a slow step forward.

"Damon?"

He glanced up at her in acknowledgment, then stood, heart in hand.

He proceeded to wrap it in a cloth, and place it in a satchel, before turning.

"Sorry," he offered her a smile, breaking the strain, "I was just preparing for tonight. The hour ran away with me...I see my gift was delivered."

She returned his smirk, "Indeed. Though I am still undecided if the gift was for me, or for your own enjoyment."

He laughed in that way she loved, "For both, my darling, but mostly for it is for tonight. The Shadowcasters in attendance will be wearing the color, and I do so enjoy showing off what is mine."

She touched one of the blood drawn symbols on his chest.

"Yours, am I?"

He held her gaze, "Only mine."

She could certainly live with that.

He lifted a finger, which was still covered in blood, and touched it to her neck.

She leaned into him at the contact.

"My print here will mark you tonight. It will insure that no one else try to claim you. Remember that you are not a witch, Elena. You are not a slave."

She nodded, "I am yours."

He smiled, "Good girl."

With a kiss to her cheek, he turned, grabbing a shirt from the end of his bed.

It was white, translucent, and she could see the blood marked symbols beneath it.

A V-shaped front showed off the top of his chest, and Elena had to stop herself from reaching for him.

He smirked, seeming to sense her eagerness.

"Later, my love," he promised, placing a hand on her neck, "But for now, we must go."

He grabbed her hand, and the satchel containing the heart, before beginning his chant.

Elena closed her eyes, knowing what was to come.

Sure enough, when Damon squeezed her hand, she could feel wind on her face.

They were outside.

* * *

Her eyes opened to see a forest surrounding them.

"Stay close to me," Damon commanded.

She had no problem obeying, as the high moon did little to comfort her, as they walked through the darkness.

When nothing became more nothing, Elena began to wonder if they were lost.

But then Damon stopped abruptly.

"It's here," he told her.

She looked ahead of them, but saw nothing.

When she told him this, Damon laughed.

"It is spelled, darling, hidden."

"How do we gain entrance, then?" She wondered.

Damon pulled a dagger from his belt, "Through sacrifice."

She watched as he cut his palm, deep enough for blood to pool in his hand, then lifted it.

It seemed as though he had just lifted his hand to dead air, but the second he stretched his arm, a structure appeared, a door, on which his hand was placed.

He pulled the door open, to reveal a set of stairs.

"We are here," he told her.

She exhaled, before following behind him as he descended the stairway.

* * *

Noise echoed toward them, a party, with music and chatter.

Elena relaxed some.

The world of socializing was familiar to her, a world she understood.

The stairs ended at two large double doors, which Damon opened without touching.

Eyes turned on them as they entered, some of the chattering stopped, but Elena was too distracted to notice.

The room was large, circular, like a ball room.

But all along the walls, were men and women, shoulder to shoulder, each in a matching red scrap of fabric that barely covered their flesh.

Chains bound their hands and feet, with just enough space to move around.

Each held a tray, adorned with food, and stood silent, as if they were statues.

A few others, also in the red fabric, danced in the center of the room to the music.

Elena noticed that these individuals were not chained, but were covered in blood.

It dripped from gashes on their bodies, onto the marble floor.

* * *

"Well, well, well," a voice called, grabbing Elena's attention, "Look who decided to show."

A very attractive man sauntered over to them, followed by two other males, both shirtless, and clearly of servant status.

Damon greeted the man who'd spoken with a firm handshake, and a smile, "Klaus."

Damon turned to her then.

"Elena, this is his Lord Niklaus of Gent, House of Mikaelson. Klaus, this her royal highness, Elena Petrova, Princess of Mystic."

"My," Klaus reached out, taking her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, love."

He kissed her knuckles, and Elena bowed her head respectively, "Likewise, my lord."

Klaus smiled up, glancing between her and Damon, "I have heard rumors that Mystic and Aurelia were joining their forces through matrimonial means. I'd assumed that this meant there was only one heir to Mystic's throne."

Elena held her chin up, "There is."

A smirk crossed Klaus's lips, "Tsk, tsk...you have been naughty, haven't you, Damon."

Damon seemed at ease with this man's conclusion, "The means in which I spend my time outside of these walls are not of concern to you."

"Perhaps not," Klaus allowed, "But you do have a way of continually surprising me."

He looked over at Elena, "From what little Damon has shared with me, it seems that you are a natural to our ways."

Elena blushed slightly, "I still have much to learn, but each time we practice, I improve."

Klaus nodded, "How much magic do you harness?"

Her eyebrows pulled together, "Sorry?"

Luckily, Damon stepped in, "He means, blood. Your consummation."

He turned to Klaus, "You have forgotten. Elena drinks the blood from me, while she learns. I did not wish to overpower her before she was ready. She has never consumed the fresh blood of a born witch."

Klaus rose a brow, "Well, tonight holds much in store, then.

* * *

The music changed rhythm, and Klaus escorted them over to others.

Elena quickly discovered that Damon was in high respect here, as guest after guest bowed toward him in greeting.

"Damon!" A redheaded woman called out, hurrying over, with another man following close behind.

She embraced him with enough intimacy for Elena to feel uncomfortable.

"Sage," Damon greeted, pulling away from her, "You look well."

"As do you," she smirked, "We have missed seeing you around here. It has been quite a few months."

"A few," Damon agreed, drawing Elena to his side, "I have been occupied."

"Fresh meat," the man who'd come over with Sage smiled, "You must be Elena."

She nodded, allowing him to shake her hand. "Beautiful," Sage complimented her, "Truly you are. From what land do you hail?"

"She is the heir to Mystic's throne," Damon intercepted.

"Stefan's betrothed?" Sage asked.

Damon's eyes darkened, "Mine, actually."

Elena's gaze shot to him, but his eyes gave nothing more.

"You, Damon?" Sage grinned, "Since when do you have interest in vows? Or the means to reclaim your crown?"

Damon just winked at her, before his name was called again.

He looked at Elena, "Will you be alright?"

She nodded, "Go ahead."

He kissed her cheek, then walked off, the man whom had appeared with Sage followed.

* * *

Elena watched Damon, until she felt an arm loop through her own, and turned to see Sage next to her.

"You must be something special," the woman sighed.

"What do you mean?" Elena asked her curiously.

Sage smiled, "Damon has always loved the women, Elena, and they have always loved him back...but the way he looks at you...it is unusual for him."

Elena flushed again, but smiled, "Yes, I am quite fond of him as well."

"Easily witnessed," Sage teased, "But we should allow the men to attend to things of men. Come with me?"

Elena smirked, "Lead the way."

* * *

**Let me know what you think ;)**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hello lovelies! Now this chaper isn't as long as some of the others, but I have reasons for this ;)**

**Please enjoy, and I'll try to have the next past chapter posted soon!**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena was hiding in the locker room.

She didn't want to tell Caroline she was bailing on her, but time was ticking down, and Damon would be waiting.

Practice had finally ended, and there was about two hours left before the game.

The game she wouldn't be attending.

She shut her locker and sat on the bench in front of it.

Everything would change tonight.

What Damon had in mind...this could be the last day she'd ever have as a normal teenage girl.

The last day any of them would.

When he did the spell and returned her memories, would she still feel this guilt?

She thought of Caroline.

Sweet, sweet, bubbly Caroline.

And Matt, and Bonnie, and all her other friends.

She thought of Jenna, of Mr. Saltzman, the entire town.

What would become of it, once Damon rose Aurelia?

And after tonight, would she even care?

Elena sighed.

Whatever happened, she had to remember that it was what she wanted.

She'd wanted it enough to die for it, and she had to know why.

As she pondered these things, she heard her name being called from outside.

It grew louder, frantic, so she grabbed her bag, and left the lockers.

The doors opened to the gymnasium, where Stefan had just entered.

"Stefan?" She froze.

He sighed with relief as he spotted her, and jogged over.

Elena tried to shake off the image of him with fangs.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he answered, "I need to talk to you. Now."

She tightened her grip on the bag, "Whatever it is, it can wait."

"No, actually, it can't."

She crossed her arms, "Stefan, I told you, my mind is made up. I'm getting my memories back and-"

"This isn't about that," he explained, "This is about Damon and whatever it is he's planning."

Elena eyed him, "Why do you care?"

"You don't have to believe me, Elena, but Damon isn't good. He's killed before, and he'll kill again to get what he wants!" He swallowed, holding her gaze, "And even if you love him, the girl I know wouldn't stand for that."

She bit her lip, "Stefan, you just have to trust me, alright? I know what Damon's done. And yes, I love him. But I also love my friends, my family. Damon _knows_ that. He wouldn't-"

"Damon knows the girl that would kill her best friend if he told her to do so. And tonight, he is going to turn you back into her. Please, Elena. I have to stop him. Why does he have a map of Mystic lined up? What does he want with Aurelia's ruins, and what is he planning for the Night of the Comet? What does he want, besides you?"

Elena was torn again.

What did she tell him?

Should Damon be stopped?

Were the people she loved really in danger?

Was Damon?

She shook her head, "No one will die. I won't let that happen. But I'm not going to let you go after Damon either."

Stefan cursed.

"Elena, he's planning something big, I can feel it. Work with me here, please. I don't want to hurt him either."

"You want me to betray him, and I can't do that," she defended.

Stefan deliberated, "Fine. Can you at least tell me if he does have something lined up? Something with the comet?"

Elena considered that, then nodded, "Yes, a spell. He needs me to help him. That's why he wants me to get my memories back."

"Are you going to help him?"

"As long as no one gets hurts," she answered.

Stefan scoffed, "And the witch's blood that it'll require to do the spell? They don't count?"

She shrugged, "Damon says he already has the blood he needs-"

"Damon has the blood he needs to bring your memories back, Elena. But if he's planning something else, something bigger that's tied to the comet..." he trailed off, an odd look crossing his features.

"He's going to need a fresh source," Stefan mused, eyes unfocused as he followed the train of thought, "Powerful, like before..."

Elena's eyebrows furrowed, "What are you saying, Stefan?"

He swallowed, his gaze lifting to meet hers, "Have you seen Bonnie today?"

Now she was really confused, "No, she blew off practice. Why?"

Stefan set his jaw, "Emily Bennett's blood sealed the spell to the comet five hundred years ago. Damon's going to need Bennett blood for his spell. You might want to call your friend again."

Bonnie's throat was raw from screaming.

It had felt like hours, but no one had come to save her.

Eventually exhaustion gave way, and she stopped fighting her binds.

The table she laid on was cold, and the temperature around her was dropping.

It must be getting late out.

The blindfold around her eyes was already damp from her tears, but she couldn't stop the flow of fresh ones.

She was supposed to be cheering at a football game tonight, not possibly facing her imminent death!

"Why?!" She screamed out, to nothing in particular, "What do you want? Why am I here?!"

"One question at a time, please," a smooth, male voice answered.

She was so stunned at the presence of another, she almost couldn't speak.

Almost.

"Who are you?"

The voice was accompanied this time with the sound of metal clanking.

She shivered.

"That's not important," he told her, "What is important is who _you_ are."

"Me?" She gasped,trying to stay calm, "I'm nobody."

"Oh, au contraire, Bon Bon. You are very much a somebody. A somebody with something I need."

Another tear fell, "Whatever you want, you can take it. Please, just let me go."

He released a weary sigh.

"I wish I could, but I'm afraid that's not quite an option yet."

"Why not?" She challenged.

Silence followed, and for a moment she feared he'd left, but then her blindfold was pulled away, a blinding overhead light replacing it.

She winced, and blinked a few times to adjust.

Then she could see him.

"You look like her, you know," the man stated, walking closer.

He was beautiful, staring at her with ice blue eyes.

"What?" She couldn't follow his reason.

"Your ancestor," he told her, "Emily Bennett. You favor her."

"Who are you?" She repeated.

He ignored the question, "Be still, like a good girl."

Her breath hitched when he pulled out a knife.

"What are you-" he placed it to her wrist and cut.

The sting wasn't much, but her panic flew.

"Let me go! Please! What do you want?!"

"It's complicated," he told her, placing a jar under her bleeding wrist, letting it fill.

She began to feel light headed after a moment.

"Are you going to kill me?" She whispered.

The man sighed again.

"No. That would be counterproductive. It's not you that I need. It's your grandmother. You are simply means to an end."

Her heart was pounding, but the mention of her grandmother focused her, "What do you need with her?"

"Well, not her per say. Just her blood...and her heart."

Bonnie swallowed, "You took my blood..."

"I did," he held up the now full jar, "And I should keep you from bleeding out."

He placed his hand over the cut then.

She jolted at the contact, but he'd pulled away before she could fight it.

The mark was gone.

She blinked a few times to be sure she wasn't hallucinating, then looked up at him.

"What _are_ you?"

"Ah, ah," he shook his finger, then dipped it into the jar of her blood, like one would their coffee, "One explanation at a time."

He placed the finger in his mouth, a moan escaping his throat as he sucked her blood down, "Now, _that_ is good."

He sat the jar aside, turning to her, "You have nothing to fear from me, Bonnie Bennett."

She wasn't so sure, "How did you do that?"

"Stop the bleeding?" He waved it off, "That was nothing. Just a little magic. A thing your family should be very familiar with."

"I don't understand," she swallowed.

"I know," he actually sounded sympathetic, "It's a shame they chose not to raise you in the craft. Your blood is quite powerful."

"The craft?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh come on now, Bon. You know your family's history. Magic runs in your veins."

"That stuff isn't real," she argued.

"Oh, it's real alright. That is how I got here, after all. With the help of Emily, of course. Now _she_ was a powerful witch."

Bonnie's mind reeled.

Everything she'd ever been told, all the stories and lessons from her grandmother...they were true?

Grams.

"Why do you want my grandmother? If it's our bloodline...you have me."

She choked back more fearful tears.

"Yes, you would be simpler to use," the man acknowledged, "You are young, inexperienced, and laughably in the dark, where your grandmother...well, I dare say she will be a challenge. That's why you're here. To convince her to comply. I really hope she does. Elena would be angry if I had to kill you."

"Elena?" Bonnie shot, "You know Elena?"

For whatever reason, he found this humorous.

A delicious laugh escaped him, "Oh yes, I know Elena."

Bonnie wasn't sure why, but the way he said Elena's name bothered her.

He caressed it, as if it were of great importance.

"You stay away from her!" she demanded.

The man reached a hand out, brushing back her hair as she struggled against his touch.

"You are brave, I'll give you that. And you clearly love Elena...please, don't make me have to kill you."

His hand grasped something by her head, and before she could react, he had covered her eyes again.

She screamed out in the darkness, somehow knowing she was once again, alone.

* * *

**Sooo leave a review and let me know what you think! :)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Hey guys! So Birthday weekend/week is over, and I should be able to write more regularly now :)**

**Sorry about the wait, but the reviews have been so inspiring!**

**I hope you guys like this chapter as well :)**

* * *

_**August, 1567**_

* * *

Damon had been right.

Elena had never seen an event like the one before her now.

As Sage took her around, introducing her to one Shadowcaster after another, she began to notice other things.

Women in gold masks, slitting their wrists, allowing their blood to be poured into goblets, which were consumed by passers.

The clothes were so thin, so scarce, because the slave witches and servants were bent over at random, a Shadowcasters cock shoved inside them.

In other places, a male would be sitting on one of the fine sofas, a female, be it slave or Shadowcaster, riding him.

Sweat and blood shone from all directions, reflecting in the torchlight.

The floors were red.

The bareness of her feet turning the color as the blood clinged to them.

The voices of the Shadowcasters echoed, accompanied with the occasional cry of pleasure, and Elena's breathing hitched, as she tried to take it all in.

She left Sage's side to wander on her own a bit.

It was so much to absorb.

She had lost sight of Damon a while ago, but she wasn't worried.

These people acted more like a family than a threat, with how close and intimate they all seemed.

Idly, she wondered at the servants.

The obedient, silent statues, who only moved to please.

She glided through some of the others, until she reached the walls.

A particular feeling seemed to guide her eyes past the two males, and a blonde, down further.

There was a female there, young, with sun darkened skin, and caramel colored hair.

She too wore a gold mask, but her green eyes shone in the fire light.

Elena could feel the power pulsing from her.

She was a witch, a strong one, though not the strongest Elena had felt.

The red fabric of a slave hung from her shoulders, covering pieces of her skin, but leaving one breast, and slits of her thighs and stomach exposed.

Elena crooked her head, "What is your name?"

The girl moved her eyes to look at Elena.

"It is whatever you wish, my lady," the girl replied.

Elena smirked.

She was obviously well trained. Expensive.

Her hand reached out, to touch the girl's face.

Her skin was smooth, as Elena trailed her finger down, to the girls neck.

A trail of blood was marked there, but no wound.

Elena blinked, then touched the blood at her own neck.

Damon's mark.

* * *

"I see Salvatore isn't going to share anything tonight," a voice made her jump.

She glanced over to see a rather handsome man.

"Apologies?"

The man smirked, "I have not yet had the pleasure of your company, Princess. I am Lorenzo, a friend of Damon's."

"Eleniana," she offered her hand.

He kissed her knuckles in custom, but chuckled, "Yes, I do believe that we all know who you are, Elena. As if Damon's most prized possession would go unrecognized."

She turned back to the girl as she spoke, "I am not a possession."

Another short laugh, "Tell that to your lover then."

She felt his hand on her hair then, pulling it back to reveal her neck.

"He has marked you tonight, same as he has with her," he motioned to the girl, "You see, by our laws, blood is by what you live and die. It's by what you win, by what you lose, and by how you claim. Damon has claimed you tonight, by marking you with his blood. Much like the witch here, you're untouchable."

Elena was smirking now, "Claimed or not, I would still be untouchable. Damon does not give me the right to my body, it is mine to possess."

"Are you sure it is not your father's decision, princess? He did, after all, give your body to Stefan."

"And look how well that worked for him," she pointed out.

"Yes, I can not imagine he will be too pleased upon discovery. You will upset him greatly."

Elena shrugged, "I have been upsetting my father since I was old enough to tell him which dress I wanted to wear."

Lorenzo was chuckling again, "Oh, I can see why Damon likes you. You should tell him how rude it is to keep you for himself."

His hand brushed through her hair again, but this time, his eyes trailed the length of her body, "It really is a shame."

"Enzo."

Both Elena and Lorenzo turned their heads, just in time to see Damon parading forward.

"Enjoying ourselves?" He asked as he neared them, eyeing Enzo's hand on Elena's shoulder.

The man dropped it, under Damon's scrutiny, but smiled.

"Possessive bastard, you are."

Damon smirked, "Would you not be?"

Enzo's eyes roamed her again, "Completely."

Damon laughed, "You can ignore this one, Elena. He's centered enough on himself that I doubt he'll take much notice of any true beauty here tonight."

"I'm the centered one, am I, Damon?" Enzo rose a brow, playfully nudging him, "Why is it then that the slaves you have had brought here bear your mark? No plans to share tonight?"

"Not just yet," Damon allowed, turning to look at the girl, "I purchased this one for a purpose."

"Naturally," Enzo nodded, "I will leave you to you and yours then."

He bowed his head, winked at Elena, and left to join some others.

* * *

"He was interesting," Elena acknowledged, and Damon smiled down at her.

"He is certainly something. He was a soldier in Aurelia's army, a few years back. He's apart if this life now, and a close friend."

Elena nodded, as Damon looked over the slave.

"What did Enzo mean about you not sharing?"

Damon looked back at her, "My blood, on you, on her, is a warning of sorts. You've already been claimed, you are not to be touched, without my permission. You can understand why I placed it on you?"

Elena nodded, walking closer to the wall, "And her?"

Damon smiled, "I wanted her for you."

Elena looked up at him, "For me?"

He nodded, eyes once again on the slave girl, "She is upon her sixteenth year. Her blood is powerful. Not as strong as your Emily's, but strong enough. And..."

Elena watched as he stepped closer to the girl.

His hand rested against her lower stomach,then trailed down, under the skirt of her dress.

His hand moved up between her thighs, and as his fingers pushed into her, the girl flinched, but did not make a noise or move her eyes.

Damon smirked, "She is still pure."

"A virgin," Elena realized, "What does this matter? If it is her blood we want?"

"Shadowcasters are powered by the _sacrifice_ of blood, darling. A virgin is a valued slave. It means untouched. Unused. It will increase the power you claim."

* * *

Elena crooked her head, eyes roaming over the girl with peaked curiosity.

"I would drink from her."

Damon laughed, "Of course you will."

He motioned to the girl, "Step forward."

She did as he commanded, though Elena noticed the slight tremble of the slave's knees as she came to stand next to Damon.

She was afraid of him.

Elena's eyes trailed over Damon, watching as he pulled out his dagger, that same hungry look in his eyes.

Perhaps the girl was rightful in her fear.

"The blood will be addictive," he warned, "Try to remember that we do not want her dead."

Elena nodded, "I can handle it."

Damon seemed to believe her, because he was then placing the blade in her hand.

"I find that the neck is the strongest flow," he advised, "Start there, but do not cut too deeply. And remember to heal the wounds once finished."

Again, Elena nodded, and moved to stand in front of the witch.

"Tilt your head," she commanded, "And I will attempt to make this painless."

The girl was well trained and crooked her neck easily.

Elena pressed the blade against the girl's skin.

Slowly, she drug the dagger across, until blood leaked from the wound.

The sight of it, so bold against pale skin, made Elena eager to taste it.

She leaned into the girl's throat, and her tongue probed her skin.

As soon as the blood touched her, Elena's body ignited.

It was power as she'd never felt, and she latched hard to the slave's neck.

She sucked in as much of the taste as she could with each breath.

The metallic edge to the blood was easily ignored by the sheer strength she felt rise in her with each drink.

A thousand times better than anything she'd ever experienced.

* * *

Then a hand was on her shoulder, a voice in her ear, "Elena, love, that's enough."

She felt her body protest.

The moan in her throat, the clenching of her muscles, all trying to postpone the separation she knew had to come.

But then that soft voice was replaced by softer lips, trailing up her neck, and all thoughts of blood were forgotten.

* * *

Elena released the girl and span around.

Damon's eyes were burning into her, wanting her, and she could not refuse him.

Reaching to him, she grasped his thin shirt and pulled him to her.

Their lips crashed and a different heat spread over her body.

She felt euphoric, as if the blood she had costumed was a drug, fueling her bliss, as Damon's teeth chewed on her bottom lip.

She jumped as his hands scooped her rear, her legs wrapping around him.

She was glad for the slits in the fabric now.

Their lips were so locked, she could taste more blood, but was unsure if it was his, the slave's, or even her own.

For the pain and pleasure were one and the same.

Her back connected with something hard and cold, the stone wall, perhaps, but she didn't care.

She didn't care that her mind was elsewhere, or that Damon was now pulling out his cock and aligning it to her.

She didn't care that a room full of people, doing similar things, surrounded her as Damon thrusted into her.

She didn't care that her moans joined a chorus of others in the hottest pleasure she'd ever felt.

All that mattered was the feeling of Damon's skin on her own, the beat of his heart, and the blood, running power through her veins.

The pleasure that just climbed and climbed.

She climaxed.

She screamed.

She was free.

* * *

**Sooo Elena is getting a little deeper into the lifestyle :)**

**Can't wait to see what ya'll think! **


	33. Chapter 33

**Hey guys! So this chapter is a little short, but the next one is super long lol. **

**This story is drawing closer to a finale though. **

**I think you guys will be surprised with the events that unfold! ;)**

* * *

_**Present Day**_

* * *

Elena's stomach was in a pit of nerves as Stefan pulled up to Sheila Bennett's house.

If everything really was true, she was the last one the elder witch would want to help.

But if Damon had Bonnie, something she was not yet one hundred percent sure of, then she had to try.

Especially since Damon wasn't answering her calls to put her mind at ease.

She jumped from the car as Stefan put it in park, praying that they were wrong.

That they would find Bonnie inside, safe and sound.

She walked up the steps, Stefan directly behind her.

It took three knocks for the door to be answered.

Sheila Bennett, the woman Elena had seen a million times, stared back at her, coldly.

"Elena."

She decided to cut to the chase, "Is Bonnie here?"

"No," Sheila stated icily, "But I expect you knew that."

Then, against her will, Elena was pulled into the house, Stefan with her.

The door slammed shut and they found themselves pinned against the wall.

"Please," Elena begged, "I just want to find Bonnie!"

"So do I," the woman hissed, "I know that you're involved Elena. You're here with a creature of the night, and your blood smells of magic. I don't know what you've done, child, but if Bonnie is hurt-"

"We are not responsible," Stefan reasoned, straining against the invisible hands that held them, "My brother is here. Damon Salvatore. He's a Shadowcaster; the same one that killed your ancestor Emily Bennett."

"That's impossible," Sheila shot.

"It's not," Stefan reasoned, "He did a spell to preserve himself, and Elena."

Sheila's eyes shot to her.

"She doesn't remember any of it," Stefan spoke quickly, "She is innocent in this life, but we must stop my brother. If he has Bonnie, he will kill her. He wants-"

"Her blood," Sheila realized.

Stefan nodded, "We want to help, please."

"Why should I believe you?" She prodded.

"Because you know me," Elena jumped in, "Ms. Bennett, you know who I am. Bonnie is my best friend. I would never let anything happen to her."

Grams considered this.

"How do you know you can save her? That this Shadowcaster hasn't already killed her."

Elena bit her lip, "He wouldn't. He loves me. And he knows what Bonnie means to me."

"Then why would he even take her?" Stefan speculated.

Elena thought it through.

What did Damon gain from using Bonnie?

The Bennett blood, of course, but he'd have to know Elena wouldn't let him go through with killing her best friend.

Unless.

Maybe it wasn't Bonnie he was after.

"You," she gasped, "He wants you. Bonnie is the trap to get you. He knows you'd look for her, I'm sure of it!"

Sheila swallowed, "Then I will go to him."

Her hold on the two of them released, and Elena peeled herself from the wall.

"You can't," she insisted, "He'll kill you."

"He'll try," Sheila smirked.

"No, Elena is right," Stefan insisted, "Damon is powerful. Too powerful. You'd be dead before you even had the chance to fight back. Your magic would only fuel him, and we can't let him get any stronger."

"I'll talk to him," Elena offered, "He'll listen to me."

"He might," Stefan interjected, "But he might not, and I can't take that risk."

"Well I'm not going to just let the two of you go after him!" Elena insisted, "You'll kill him!"

"Is that not the point?" Sheila noted.

Elena hissed, "No. No one is dying! Not Bonnie, not you, and not _Damon_!"

"We may not have a choice," Stefan told her, "If Damon refuses to stand down-"

"He'll do it for me," Elena promised, "Please Stefan, I know he will."

Stefan considered this, trading a look with Sheila.

"On one condition then," he offered, "You tell us what his plan is."

Elena swallowed, "Fine."

* * *

Bonnie was all out of tears when the silence of the room was finally broken again.

Her captor had returned.

"Up," he commanded, pulling her arm.

Suddenly her binds were gone, and she was sitting straight.

Her blindfold was removed.

She blinked herself into focus, the same man from before, standing in front of her.

She exhaled, "What are we doing?"

"You're going to come with me," he smiled at her, "You're going to be quiet and do exactly as I say. Or you're going to die. Understand?"

She nodded slowly.

"Good," the man backed away, "Oh, and don't bother trying to run. It'll only make things worse."

He then pulled down a set of stairs, and Bonnie realized she'd been in some sort of basement.

She hesitated to follow him, but knew from before the magic that he possessed.

Maybe she should just do as she was told.

Climbing up behind him, she came to stand in a little cabin.

He motioned to the front door, leading her out of it.

It was late in the day now, almost sun down.

He opened up the door to a blue camaro.

"Get in."

He didn't wait to see if she listened, before walking around to the driver's side.

She looked around.

The cabin was in the middle of the woods.

She'd never seen it before, and saw no paths leading out.

He was right.

Running would be pointless.

With a deep breath, she got in the car, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Stefan's eyes had hardened with each word Elena spoke, until he was seething.

"He wants to raise Aurelia? Here?! Do you understand what that would mean?!"

She wished she did, "He just wants his home back, Stefan."

"He wants to rule!" Stefan corrected, "Elena this is bad! Damon has been unaware for half a century. Times have changed! To accomplish something like this, to bring back everything, he'd have to enslave the whole town! Curse the entirety of the land! You will lose everything as you know it!"

"Then give me the chance to reason with him!" She begged.

Stefan's words scared her.

She loved Damon, so much, but she couldn't condemn everyone to sedate her curiosity.

She would really lose herself then.

"Give me a moment to think," Stefan huffed, running a hand through his hair.

He seemed to deliberate a million things in the next ten seconds.

He took a breath.

"Alright," he began, "If Damon didn't tell you that he was taking Bonnie, he clearly didn't want you to know. He hasn't answered your calls either, so he knows that you'd disapprove."

"What's your point," Sheila urged him.

"That you should follow through. Go to Damon. We can find out exactly what he wants, and where he has Bonnie. Elena and I can protect you, then we'll deal with Damon."

Sheila nodded, "Whatever it takes to make my granddaughter safe."

Elena grabbed Stefan's arm, "Just promise you'll let me talk to him, before you start an unnecessary fight."

Stefan eyed her, "I'll do whatever I have to to save the innocent people in this town, Elena. They shouldn't suffer for this."

She sighed.

He was right.

But she still had faith that Damon could be compromised with.

And she'd hold on to that until she no longer could.

But she wouldn't let Stefan hurt Damon.

As much as it scared her, she knew she'd kill him first.

* * *

Bonnie wanted to ask where they were going so many times, but she held her tongue, not wanting to risk angering him.

Eventually though, they turned into familiar roads, into Mystic Falls, toward the school.

Her curiosity peaked over her fear, "We're going to the game?"

It seemed ridiculous, but he'd pulled into the parking lot next to the football field.

"Don't be naive," he sighed, stopping the car. He was at her door before she'd even unhooked her buckle.

He pulled her from the car, holding painfully to her arm.

"We are going this way," he motioned to the trees in the distance.

She swallowed, "Why?"

"Because," he explained, "This is where it all began."

She wasn't sure what he meant, but didn't ask, as he drug her to the woods.

The faint sound of the band cheered in the background, and part of her wondered for her friends, and if she'd ever see them again.

* * *

Sheila had left.

She'd done a tracking spell, locating Bonnie in the middle of the woods outside of town, Damon's cabin, and had left to meet him there.

Elena prayed that Damon wouldn't kill her.

Stefan had been silent since the plan was laid out, and she looked at him now.

He stood frozen, his eyes glazed.

"Stefan?" She called quietly.

Slowly, he came back, and looked up at her.

"We should go now, right?" She questioned, "We don't want Bonnie's Gram getting there too soon before us."

He only swallowed.

"Stefan?" Elena pressed.

His eyes looked sad. And empty.

"You're scaring me," she admitted.

He sighed, "I can't let him do this, Elena."

"I know," she agreed, "But I'll talk to him. We'll stop this."

"It's too late for talking," Stefan murmured, "He'll kill everyone, like before. Thousands...dead upon your father's vengeance. Because of Damon."

"Stefan," Elena grabbed him, "Come on. Snap out of it."

His gaze held hers, "Damon loves you. Damon loves you almost as much as he loves power."

"I know," Elena insisted, "That's why this will work. I'll stop him."

"But he's bringing back your memories," Stefan reasoned, "He's going to corrupt you. He's going to kill. And you'll let him, like before."

"I won't!" She promised, her heart racing, "I'll stop him!"

Stefan stared at her, "I am so sorry, Elena. Truly."

"Stefan?" She stepped back as veins crawled under his eyes.

"This is the only way," he whispered, "He loves you."

Then he lunged at her.

No one was around to hear her scream.

* * *

**I hopersonally this wasn't too obvious lol. **

**Please review and let me know what you thought :)**


	34. Chapter 34

**Woo over 400! **

**Thank ya'll, so much! **

**I think this is the last official new "past" chapter, but it's really really long, so enjoy! :)**

**Xoxo**

* * *

_**October, 1567**_

* * *

The months flew by as Elena's powers grew.

With each moon's passing she got stronger and stronger.

Almost as strong as Damon.

She had all but abandoned her own room, choosing instead to spend her nights with him.

Either practicing or fucking.

Sometimes both.

Watching her use did wonders for Damon's aggression.

A thing she took full advantage of.

Part of her worried that they were not being careful enough.

Stefan had been asking more questions than she was comfortable with lately, but if he truly suspected anything, he didn't voice it.

And she was not keen on giving up her time with Damon.

Or the endless supply of blood he offered her.

Even now, he was wrapping up the body of their latest victim, as Elena soaked in the tub.

* * *

The witch's heart still oozed red, and the blood trickled down Elena's arm, staining the water.

"Are you going to join me?" She called, her eyes on the life source she held.

Damon turned, watching her fascination.

"Someone must clean this mess," he teased, and Elena smirked, looking up.

With her free hand, she snapped her fingers together, and the body disappeared.

"Done."

Damon rose a brow, "Where did you send him?"

"To the forest's edge," she smiled, "It will only fuel the concerns that the children of the night have returned."

"As well they should believe," Damon noted, "So we will not be suspected."

"That is the idea," she pointed out, "Now, are you stalling, or will you join me?"

She held out the heart to him.

An offering; a temptation.

"Very well," he noted, "Make room."

She did just that as he stripped his trousers and undergarment.

Once naked, he stepped into the warm water, settling down behind her.

Elena took advantage of the new position and fit herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

Damon's arms reached around her, holding her, and his hand grasped the heart.

She relented it to him, and let her head rest against his neck.

Damon squeezed the heart, and blood ringed out, covering her chest and neck.

She moaned at the feeling, parting her lips wide.

Damon took the cue and moved the heart up, allowing the blood to flow into her mouth.

She moaned again as it touched her tongue, and this time Damon's body responded.

She turned around, taking the heart from him.

Sitting up, she straddled him, and watched the red droplets cover his chest.

She smeared them in, loving the dark contrast against his skin.

Leaning forward, she licked the mess from him.

Damon grew harder beneath her, and she smirked.

"Taste," she commanded, bringing the heart to his lips.

Eyes never leaving hers, Damon ravished the muscle.

His teeth ripped into it, blood seeping down his chin, and Elena would swear she'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

Nor a more arousing one.

She fed him, until the heart was nearly gone, and when her hand was emptied, she leaned forward, biting the bit that hung from Damon's lips, pulling it into her own mouth and swallowing.

Damon growled approvingly, his hips thrusting involuntarily in his excitement.

She gasped at the sensation, before letting him slip inside of her.

Her head fell back as she rode him, high on the blood and on her love for the man beneath her.

Nothing else mattered.

Except making sure it could last.

* * *

"You are completely sure of this?" She asked him again, later that evening, once they had both been thoroughly satisfied.

Damon nodded, his fingertips running along her bare back as they laid out on the bed.

"It will work. I'm certain. It was among spells that belonged to my mother. I've copied it into the grimoire."

"We will need more blood," she concluded, "Powerful blood. More than any witch in Aurelia can offer."

"Well, there is one," Damon reminded her, and Elena tensed, "You mean Emily."

He nodded, "She is a Bennett witch, Elena. One of the strongest lines of magical blood."

"No," she sat up, "We cannot kill her. Pick another."

"Another witch that powerful, within the kingdom, or even your father's? Doubtful."

"It is too dangerous," she insisted, "You have felt Emily's power just as surely as I have. She is much too strong."

Damon sat up too.

"But this is where our advantage lies," he explained, "She is your handmaiden. She trusts you."

Elena huffed and stood from the bed, pulling on her silk dressing gown, and the thigh sheath that contained her daggers.

Though one was missing, the one Damon had used on her in bed.

She looked around, spotting it on the floor, and picked it up, before answering, "I will not kill her, Damon."

The lightness of his expression faded, "Not even for us?"

Her hand tightened on the weapon, "We will find another witch. Emily has grown uneasy in my company. She knows what you do, what _we_ do, to the others! Not to mention that, shall we fail, she could tell the king everything! She knows too much, Damon. She is too involved."

"Is it not better then, to take her life?" He pressed, standing.

"No, it is not!" Elena grew annoyed, "We get once chance at this, Damon! We cannot risk something going wrong!"

"The witch will not be able to defeat us!" He insisted angrily.

"You have not seen her power," Elena reminded him, "I have!"

"We do not have the time to find another, Elena. If we want this to work, you must be reasonable!"

She groaned in frustration, turning to sink the dagger into the wall by Damon's head.

"Fine," she hissed coldly, "But if you want her dead so badly, you can kill her yourself."

* * *

She turned to walk toward his door, but Damon grabbed her arm.

"Elena."

His tone was firm, commanding, sexy.

She closed her eyes, "Release me, Damon."

His grip tightened, and he pulled her back into his chest.

The entirety of his hard body was pressed against her.

The one weakness of hers that he knew well and exploited often.

His lips pressed against her neck, softly, "Do not be angry with me, love. I want this to work as much as you do."

Elena sighed, falling back into him, and his arms laced around her.

"I know," she told him, "But please, let us find another."

His chest rumbled, but she felt him nod, "If that is what you wish."

"It is," she looked up at him, "Thank you."

His answer was a chaste kiss on her lips, then her shoulder as he pulled away to find his own clothes.

Elena crossed her arms, in thought.

"It will require a great blood sacrifice, correct?"

Damon nodded, pulling on his trousers, "It does."

"If we simply kill a civilian, where lies the sacrifice?"

Damon looked over at her, "A civilian will not do for this. Nor will just magic. It must be a sacrifice of our giving. We must lose something to gain something."

Again she considered this, "What possibilities did you consider?"

Damon's voice was void of emotion, "I am not too overflowed with people whom I love. But I am sure the death must be familial. Blood to blood and all."

Elena bit her lip, "My father..."

Damon sighed, walking to her, "I would not ask that of you, Elena."

She crooked her head, "Then who? You hate your father so it's hardly a sacrifice, and Stefan..." she trailed off, "Stefan."

Elena lifted her gaze to Damon's, "He is your blood...and he loves me."

Damon shook his head, "Stefan shares my blood, but he is not of my blood, nor I of his. It would not be a strong enough bond. Too bad we have no available virgins. That would do the trick."

Elena blushed at her next thought.

"What of...lovers?"

Damon blinked, then followed her thought, "As if I would let him touch you," he growled, "No. Besides, you do not love him. The sacrifice would not work."

"Then what?" She was out of ideas.

"My father will have to do," Damon decided, "I may not hold any love for the man, but he is the blood of my blood. Royal blood of Aurelia. The sacrifice of the patricide should work."

Elena nodded, "Then we only need to locate a witch before the comet's passing."

Damon agreed, "We will have three possible nights to perform the spell. Then we must die to be reborn."

Elena swallowed, "And if it does not work? If we remain truly dead?"

Damon cupped her cheek, "Then I pray my soul finds yours in the afterlife. For I do not wish to live this one absent you by my side."

Elena smiled.

She felt the same, "Then come death or immortality, we shall be together."

Damon kissed her soundly, "Forever."

* * *

Emily knew something was wrong.

Days had passed since she had seen the Princess, and his highness was beginning to question her absence at meals.

She did not know what to tell him.

But to her fortune, he never asked her.

She did not wish to betray her mistress, or to lie to the crown.

Not that prince Stefan was a fool.

His saddened looks seemed to confirm that he had noticed that Prince Damon's random appearances had stopped along with Elena's.

Perhaps he just did not wish to believe the truth, nor have it confirmed.

The king never addressed the matter.

Emily doubted he much cared.

Dinner was finally dismissed, and she packed a tray for the princess.

As she did most nights of late, to leave in her bed chambers.

Sometimes she would find the food eaten upon the morning, but most times, it remained untouched.

She sighed as she climbed the stairs.

A right fit mess that one was getting into.

She only wished her lady had listened to her about the dark prince.

She opened the door to Elena's room, not surprised to find the princess absent, and placed the tray on the stand near the bed.

Then she picked up the flower pot, noticing the petals were drooping a little on the plant inside.

It was when she turned that she felt another presence.

Emily stiffened, the pot falling from her hands.

She heard the crash.

The breaking of the clay.

She didn't care.

Because this was the moment she had been expecting since she had discovered the prince's identity as a Shadowcaster.

She swallowed, "Your highness."

He stepped forward, and she turned.

His blue eyes were calm, steady.

"Emily Bennett," he returned with a smile as he reached behind himself and locked the door.

Her muscles tensed.

"You have something I need."

* * *

When Elena awoke, it was to a cold bed and an empty room.

She sat up to look around, but Damon was nowhere in sight.

A small fire blazed under the mantle, but it's warmth was minimal.

"Damon," she called out.

Silence answered her, not that she had really expected anything different.

But something felt unsettling about his absence.

It was after dark; late after dark, as they had fallen to sleep together after supper...and dessert.

Where could he possibly be?

She stood and dressed, looking for a note of some kind, or any clue, really, to his whereabouts.

When nothing came to, she decided to use a new technique.

Something Damon had shown her recently.

Calling upon her magic, Elena focused on the blood she'd consumed.

Damon's blood among the rest.

His particular sense was louder than the others, because she knew him so well.

And she could find him like this.

As long as she focused.

With a deep breath, she released all other thoughts, putting the entire essences of herself into the pull of Damon's blood.

Then she felt it, felt him.

And it hurt.

Elena gasped, her hands flying to her side in pain.

"Damon," she whispered.

He was hurt.

Without thinking, she teleported, trusting her magic.

When she opened her eyes, the scene before her made her mouth fall open.

She was in her bed chambers, only the bed was currently sideways, her desk also flipped, broken things scattered about.

Emily was off to the side, eyes closed, with hands on her temples.

Blood ran from her nose.

Damon was on his knees before her, writhing, as Emily chanted something, faster and faster.

Damon bellowed in pain, breaking Elena's shock.

Damon was hurting, and she could end it.

That was all that mattered.

Without any more hesitations, Elena reached to her sheath, then lunged forward, and in a single move, sank her dagger into Emily's back.

The girl didn't even have time to scream.

With a move Damon had made her practice over and over, she severed Emily's spine, twisting up to kill her, without damaging the heart.

Her maid's limp body fell to the ground.

* * *

Damon was shaking of the remnants of the spell Emily had been casting, and after a big exhale, Elena rushed to him.

"Damon!"

She helped him stand, "I'm alright."

He was a little shaken, and his side was bleeding, but nothing life threatening appeared to be wrong.

Elena swallowed, her worry giving way to anger.

"Grab the body. We need to go back to your room."

Damon nodded, doing as she said.

Elena used her magic to straightened the room back to its original state, then followed Damon.

When she opened her eyes, she was in front of the fireplace.

Emily's body was in front of Damon's altar, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, now shirtless.

She could see the wound now, and sighed.

She could yell at him later.

Right now, he needed her power.

"Stop moving!" she commanded a few moments later, as Damon groaned, once more.

"I can not."

"Well, you must," she instructed, "Otherwise I can't heal you."

He was lying on his stomach, his back covered in blood that leaked from the stab wound beneath his shoulder blade.

Apparently Emily had used her magic to take control of the blade meant to kill her.

"You will not be able to," his voice was gruff, "Emily was more powerful than I expected. More prepared. The blade cut deep."

"She knew what you are," Elena reasoned, grabbing the cloth from the water bowl near the bed to clean him again, "What we are. I told you. She knew it was only a matter of time before-"

Damon winced.

"Apologies," she flinched, "How do I heal you then?"

"Spell," he groaned, "Summon the altar over. My grimoire is there. It should have the incantation."  
Elena nodded, doing as he commanded, careful of Emily's body.

"You can really only find fault in yourself, you know," she pointed out.

Damon sighed as she turned the pages of his spell book, "Yes, I know, darling. You warned me of going after her. But it does not matter. She is dead, and we have all that we need for the spell. Her magic is powerful enough to see this through. Tomorrow, we will see this through. My father will join Emily in death, and you and I shall be freed, at last."

Elena leaned down, kissing his head, "Yes, my love. At last."

Her hand covered his wound, having found the correct spell.

"Brace yourself," she warned.

* * *

He healed instantly, and Elena was a tad impressed, though she felt a little drained from the act.

Closing the book, she sighed.

"If we are going to take her power, we should do it now. I grow weak, and she will soon start to bleed out."

Damon nodded, standing up.

"Give me your dagger."

Elena handed it over, not needing to even ask why he needed it.

After all, Damon was much better at cutting out the whole heart than she was.

She watched as he kneeled before her handmaiden, and suddenly, she had to look away.

The urge seemed childish, but unfightable.

She heard the crunch of bone, the slick, wet sound of her blood, and Elena flinched.

She should be used to this now.

She _was_ used to this.

But...it was Emily.

Her servant, her friend.

And the girl was now dead, at her hand no less.

Elena blinked back sudden tears.

Why was she crying?

Emily was dear to her, sure, but her loyalty to the girl didn't outweigh her love for Damon.

Damon.

He was why this had to happen.

So they could be together.

She wiped her cheek, feeling more certain in this decision.

Emily was, after all, the strongest witch in the kingdom.

And her sacrifice would be recognized.

Elena forced herself to turn around.

To stand, and walk over to Damon and the corpse.

The deed was done.

Emily's heart was in his hands, blood dripping, and glass jars of it surrounded him.

* * *

"You want the honors?" He offered, lifting the heart toward her.

Elena swallowed, staring at the body beneath her.

"There is no honor in this," she sighed, "Just a necessary sacrifice."

She leaned down, and placed her lips on Emily's forehead.

"Thank you for your sacrifice, Emily," she whispered, "Know that I am eternally grateful.

Damon watched her, a small smile on his lips.

"It is wise to respect the spirits," he commended.

She nodded, "I pray her soul knows peace."

Damon looked down, "Would you like to dispose of her body, or shall we burn it?"

Elena shook her head, "We have not the time, if you wish to complete the ritual with tomorrow's comet."

Damon nodded, then snapped his fingers, Emily's body disappearing.

Then, once again, he held out the heart, "Eat."

Elena took it from him, "Pray this works."

She bit into it.

A rush of power unlike anything she'd felt before filled her.

She moaned, ripping into the muscle again and again, before giving the rest to Damon.

As he ate, she picked up a jar of the blood, and drank.

She almost choked on the amount, but the euphoria of the magic made it bearable, and she knew that she would need it.

They both would.

Damon drank his fill after her, and smiled.

Red coated his teeth, ran down his chin, and joined his own blood on his torso.

His eyes followed as hers roamed, and soon, he was pulling her against him.

* * *

She fell into him, and forced his body back onto the chaise at the end of the bed.

"Strip," she commanded, needing his trousers gone.

As he worked to remove them, she poured some of Emily's blood into a goblet and brought it over.

She straddled Damon, sloshing a little onto his pec, but she licked it clean.

She took another drink, offered him one, then sat the cup down.

Damon squeezed her hips, grinding her against his erection.

Her head fell back, and she lifted her arms.

On cue, he stripped the dress from her.

Once naked, she pushed him down onto the chaise, and slid him inside of her at the same time.

They both moaned.

Elena rode him steadily, paced, enjoying the pleasure.

Damon watched her, his eyes reflecting the light of the fire.

He moved then, grabbing the cup.

Elena smiled when he brought it to her chest. They had done this before.

He titled the goblet until blood spilled over, running down her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach.

It dripped onto his chest.

She sighed breathlessly as Damon palmed her, smearing the blood in and increasing her pleasure.

Then his mouth was on her tainted skin, sucking her, licking her, tasting everything.

She kissed him, the blood lingering between their lips, a bittersweet promise.

Her climax grew, and she was left gasping her ecstasy into his red stained neck as he bit hers, both of them riding their pleasure, understanding that this could be the last night they had to do so.

* * *

Elena stood in front of the fireplace, which burned hot.

Damon slept naked on the bed behind her, though his body was stained with the blood of their...activities."  
Her blood, Emily's, his own.

All mixed together on the canvas that was his skin.

She also wore nothing except the blood, dried on her skin, and the amulet Damon had given her, which she was now unfastening.

She held it up, once it slid from her neck, so that the fire light shone through.

He had told her not to remove it, but she knew the importance of her task was worth the risk.

Tomorrow night, Damon would kill the king, and their spell would start.

She threw a glance to him on the bed.  
Her chest swelled with emotion.

Her love for him was overwhelming at times, passionate, and full forced power.  
Damon consumed her very being.  
And this could be the last time she'd ever see him.

For if they failed...she flinched.  
They could not fail.

Her eyes turned back to the necklace dangling from her hand.  
The blood diamond sparkled from the fire, spinning on its chain.

Elena gripped it in her hand.

She had faith in their plan, she did, but there was still so much that could go wrong.  
That could ruin everything.

This was her insurance.

The amulet held a great power; she'd felt it, fueling her own abilities.  
It would be powerful enough to bind a simple spell.

She reached for Damon's dagger, which lay forgotten on the floor after their lovemaking.

With its tip, she pierced her finger, beginning to chant at a low volume, as she placed the wound onto the center of the blood diamond.

She watched as, with her words, the stone absorbed her blood, it's color darkening.

She focused then, drawing up every emotion she had, centering on the burning love she felt for the eldest Salvatore prince.  
Filled the essence of her amulet with it.

So no matter how tomorrow ended, she knew, at least, her heart would be preserved within the stone.  
She would not forget this love, or the man it longed for.

* * *

Once the act was completed, Elena put the necklace back on, and crawled back into bed.

Damon slept soundly, but his arms encircled her as she moved closer to his side.

She rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at his beautiful face.

God, how she loved him.

Her eyes fluttered, and she knew sleep would soon take her.

But she managed to place one last kiss to his cheek.

"Forever," she whispered into the night, "I will love you forever."

* * *

**Sooo it's the night before! **

**Emily is dead and they are ready to dorder the spell! :)**

**Let me know what you thought, and if you picked up on the little things that had been mentioned in past chapters ;)**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey guys. **

**Okay, so this is the last Present Day chapter though I may do an epilogue.**

**This chapter will make a few things make sense lol, like the lack of Delena lemons in the Present Day. **

**I think you will have very mixed feelingshe about this ending lol. **

**I hopersonally you like it, and please don't strangle me too badly ;)**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

_**Present Day **_

* * *

It was cold.

Elena's first conscious thought as she woke up was of how she felt like shivering.

But there was warmth near by.

A fire, casting it's light on the trees above.

But she felt to heavy to look.

As if everything in her body had turned to stone.

It took her a good minute to realize that she was tied down.

And while she may not have turned to rock, it appeared that she was lying on one.

Some kind of circular stone base that her body was pinned to by rope.

Her hands and feet were bound as well.

She pulled at them to no avail, only managing to give herself a raw burn.

She focused on using the last of the magic in her, like Damon showed her.

Nothing.

What in the hell?

She tried to focus, to keep her panic at bay.

Vaguely, she remembered Stefan lunging at her, a blow to the head, then everything going dark.

Had he brought her here afterwards?

Why? Where was she?

These thoughts cleared when something touched her her head.

She jolted, and Stefan came into her view.

"Shh, Elena calm down," he was whispering, "You need to drink more."

Drink more?

That's when she realized her lips were slick with something thicker than saliva, and Stefan was holding a jar of blood in his hand. "Stefan-" she began, but he only used the opportunity to force more blood down her throat.

She swallowed to avoid choking, but something wasn't right.

This blood...it was strong, very strong.

Magical.

He pulled the jar away, holding her face.

"There," he seemed pleased, "Now it's all gone. I hit you too hard, before. I wasn't sure you would wake up."

Elena was confused.

"Stefan, who's blood was that?"

He didn't answer as he moved about, now holding...a book?

"Stefan? Where did you get that blood?" She demanded, her voice shaking.

It had tastes too familiar.

Something wasn't right.

"I...I found it. At Damon's cabin. It had Bonnie's scent."

Elena wanted to gag, "No."

Stefan didn't comment further.

"What are you doing? Where is Damon? Where is Bonnie and her Grams?" She asked now, straining against the rope again.

That sad look crossed his expression again.

"I didn't want to do it," he whispered.

Elena swallowed, "What? What did you do?"

His eyes flickered to her.

"I have to stop him Elena. A few lives are worth the sacrifice, if it stops the slaughter Damon would bring..."

"What did you do?!" She was yelling now.

He looked down, "I brought you here. Then I followed Sheila to Damon's cabin. He wasn't there...but I know where he will be. Aurelia's ruins were circled on his map. He wants to bring it back, starting with the castle. But he can't...not if he has no Bennett magic."

Elena heard the pain, the guilt in his voice.

She knew then, what had happened.

"You killed her, didn't you?" She choked, "Sheila."

"She didn't expect it," he whispered, "Her neck just snapped. I drank her blood...all of it. So Damon can't use it...then I brought Bonnie's blood here. Damon will use it to find us, I know it. He'll bring Bonnie here...she's the last of the Bennett line. Damon won't be able to use her if I get rid of her first."

Elena gasped, "You can't! Stefan, you can't _kill_ Bonnie!"

"I have to!" He screamed, "It's her or the world! Damon will never stop, he will never be satisfied with the power he has! He will always want more, and he'll kill for it! But...but I can stop him."

He picked up the book again, scanning the page.

"I found this in Damon's cabin. I don't know how he still has it...but it's the spell book he used to use. The spell for the comet is here. It says he will need the same blood used to bind the spell to unbind it.

Bennett blood. See, Elena? I'm going to stop him!"

Elena felt tears rush down her face, "Stefan, don't do this. Please-"

A giant crackle in the sky pierced her ear.

Lighting shone, illuminating everything the fire Stefan must have built, couldn't.

But there were no storms meant for tonight.

What was this?

What was happening?!

Just as she had the thought, a searing pain shot through her head.

She screamed, her binds the only thing holding her to the rock she laid upon.

Fire, in her head, in all her mind.

White hot pain.

Along with flashes.

* * *

_Damon, calming a black mare, sweat running from his shirtless back. _

_Stefan, kissing her hand, before pulling out a chair for her. _

_A servant securing her mask for the ball. _

_Damon's eyes, watching her from the shadows. _

_A blade within her grasp, being plowed into a man twice her size. _

_Damon throwing her onto his bed, kissing her, mounting her. _

_Blood. So much blood._

* * *

"What did you do?" Bonnie trembled, as lights flashed across the sky, thunder cracking.

Her bleeding wrist dripped into the bowl of objects he had accumulated.

Some kind of spell.

Her captor smiled at her, "I've reminded Elena of who she truly is."

Bonnie shook her head.

Elena?

This man was crazy. And surely, he would kill her.

"Please," she whispered, "You've taken what you need, now let me go."

"Shh," he comforted, "You will be released in time. But first, we need to find your Grams."

"No," Bonnie swallowed.

But her captors hands were in her, dragging her forward.

His hand enclosed around her wrist, bringing her wound to his mouth.

She cried as he sucked her, drank from her.

"Delicious," he gave a bloody grin, "Now behave, or I will drain you."

She whimpered, but said nothing.

And when she pulled her wrist back, the wound was gone.

The man gave her no time to ponder though, as seconds later he was once again dragging her through woods.

He seemed to be following some sort of instinct, as if he could simply find her Grams by concentrating hard enough.

Maybe he could.

A second later though, he cursed.

"Come. We must go back to the car."

She knew better than to ask why.

* * *

Damon found his camaro easily enough and shoved the tearful girl inside before getting behind the wheel.

For whatever reason, Sheila Bennett was at his cabin.

Bonnie's blood running through him pulled him there.

But why?

He hurried to find out.

* * *

Getting to the cabin was much faster than getting to the ruins.

But his stomach dropped as he pulled into the drive.

For a body lay on the ground, in the sheen of his headlights.

Sheila Bennett.

He parked the car as the witch beside him gasped, them both throwing open doors to inspect the body.

Sure enough, the old witch lay lifeless.

Bonnie screamed, tears thick in her throat as she hit her knees, pulling her grandmother into her arms.

But Damon only registered the paleness of the old woman.

And the teeth marks on her neck.

"Stefan," he growled.

He rushed past the crying witch and the dead one in her arms, to his cabin.

The door was open, and among further investigation, he found his fridge wiped and his grimoire gone.

"Fuck," he spat, sprinting back to his car.

Forget Sheila, forget the granddaughter.

Right now, he had to find his brother, and when he did, he was going to kill him.

* * *

Elena gasped in air as fast as she could.

Stefan loomed over her, "What happened?!"

"I...I..." she couldn't form words.

How did she encompass the magnitude of what she had just experienced.

It was back.

Her memory. It was back.

Oh _god_.

She knew where she was.

The altar, south of the castle, where she and Damon had burned their victims' remains.

Vaguely, she remembered Damon telling her that runes were engraved into the stone, preventing witch magic, just in case one of their victims were not as dead as they appeared.

At the time, it had seemed brilliant.

But now, it chained her, pinned her.

Limited her abilities.

"Stefan, you need to release me," she told him.

"I can't," he insisted, "I need you. To stop Damon."

Damon.

Just hearing his name again made her tremble.

Her darling love.

He had succeeded in their plan.

If Stefan had not interfered, surely she would be in Damon's arms right now.

They would be raising their home...

Wouldn't they?

She thought in a flash, of Bonnie and Caroline, and even Jenna.

These people she had come to love in this life.

She would speak with Damon, find a way to save them.

He would understand.

But first, she had to regain her freedom.

"Stefan, please," she tried again, "You do not understand! I have to-"

But the sound of an engine cut her off.

She turned her head to see a blue camaro.

Damon had arrived.

Tears filled her eyes as he stepped out of the car.

Five hundred years.

Five _hundred_ years!

So long without him...she could not lose him now.

This could not all be for nothing.

She tried to use her power again.

When nothing happened, she called out to him, "Damon!"

His eyes found her, and froze.

Clearly, he had not expected to find her here.

His lips formed her name as Stefan stepped up next to her.

* * *

"Don't come any closer," the younger Salvatore warned.

Elena saw Damon's eyes widen, and only then did she allow her gaze to turn on his brother.

He held a dagger in his hands, angled at her chest.

Stefan's gaze was focused, "I know how strong you are, Damon. But I'm _faster_. One move, and this knife is in her heart. Try to kill me, this knife is in her heart. Refuse me...she's dead."

Damon's look was murderous.

"What do you want?" He spat.

His voice, even cloaked in harshness, was a purr to Elena's ears.

God, this was all so wrong.

"To end this," Stefan swallowed, "Once and for all."

"And how do you plan to manage that?" Damon mocked, his focus on the dagger.

"With your death," he stated, "That fire there...it's for you, brother. Just like before."

"No," Elena breathed, noting the flames, remembering their burn in the past.

She screamed, "NO!"

Stefan paid her no mind, but Damon did.

His face broke her heart.

Because they both understood Stefan's meaning.

Either Damon died, or she did.

And Stefan was smart, holding the knife over the altar.

Damon's magic would not affect it, and by the frustrated look upon his face, be had just tried.

"So," Stefan taunted, his eyes a little crazy, "What's it gonna be?"

Damon's mocking tone returned, but Elena could sense the real fear behind it.

"Stefan, this is nonsense. We can talk."

"We already did," Stefan spat, "But I won't let you kill all these people. I can't...so you have until the count of three. One..."

"Stefan come on," Damon protested quickly, "You have this all wrong. It's not about the killing!"

"Two."

"Fuck," Damon growled, walking forward, "_Listen_ to me, you bastard!"

Stefan's eyes turned cold, "I warned you."

And he brought down the knife.

* * *

"NO!"

Power, beyond anything Damon had ever felt, erupted from his body.

A force so strong, it threw Stefan across the clearing,his body colliding with branches.

But it didn't matter.

Damon rushed to Elena's body, the dagger protruding from her chest.

"No, no, no," he repeated, untying her hands, then reaching to pull the knife out.

"I can fix it," he promised, "I'll fix it."

* * *

Elena's eyes were on him, tears welling in them, "Damon."

His blue eyes were exactly as she remembered.

She felt the pain, she knew what it's magnitude meant.

And she didn't want his failed attempts to save her to be her last memory.

She just wanted this.

His arms around her, his blue eyes upon her.

He paused.

"He grazed my heart, and your magic will not work," she choked, "It is too late, my love."

His own eyes stung.

"You remember?"

She smiled through her tears, her hand coming to rest on his cheek, finally feeling him again.

"Everything," she admitted, then forced a smile, "I love you...my prince."

Blue.

His eyes, the sky.

It's the last thing she felt before fading into the darkness.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered, and Damon flew into a panic.

"No! Not like this! No!"

Ripping through the rope that bound her torso, he drug her from the altar, collapsing to the ground.

He pulled the knife from her chest, blood running, as he placed his hand over it, and drew on his power.

But nothing happened.

She did not heal.

He felt the power of Bennett magic inside of her and tried to draw on it as well.

Still nothing.

Tears blurred his vision as the sound of a dying animal bellowed from his throat.

He did not just lose her.

Dear God, NO!

He tried again, and again, but nothing changed.

He peeled himself away, to look for his grimoire.

It was on the ground, a few feet from where Stefan had been standing.

He grabbed it, coming back to Elena's side, and found the healing spell.

He chanted.

But it didn't work either.

And he knew the truth.

There was nothing left to save.

He wept in earnest now, cradling her body, rocking them back and forth, her name, a chant on his lips.

* * *

He barely heard Stefan approach him.

He didn't care.

He couldn't move anyway.

"I had to," Stefan said into the night.

Damon did not look at him.

He didn't even care if he died now.

"She would have helped you do the spell. But...I saved everyone. Without Elena or the Bennett blood, you cannot raise Aurelia. The world is safe from you."

Damon raised his eyes, now red from crying, but filled with cold anger.

"You killed Elena. You killed her, Stefan. Even after claiming her innocent."

Stefan's own eyes were wet.

"I did. But I never wanted this...her death, I loved her," he looked at Damon, "I am a monster now. That _is_ what you wanted. So congratulations, brother, I am just like you."

* * *

Thunder crackled in the sky again.

Damon's eyes shot up to the heavens, and a glow of lightning flashed.

The moon shone bright.

Full.

The comet at its center.

Damon looked down at his love, then at his brother.

Stefan's brows furrowed, sensing the magic in the air, "What is this?"

Damon's mind raced, as another crash lit the sky, closer.

The pieces fell together.

And a grin broke across his lips.

"You should not mess with things you do not understand, Stefan."

Stefan's expression hardened, "What is your meaning?"

Damon laughed in realization, "Elena and I never consummated our love in this lifetime, with her new body...nor did she lie with you."

"Your point?" Stefan hissed.

Damon smirked, "My, point, brother, is that you sacrificed a _virgin_ on a ritualistic altar, consumed with Bennett blood, under the comet of Aurora Borealis...you've freed us."

Stefan's face froze, "What? No...no, you lie!"

* * *

Damon laughed, grabbing the dagger from the ground.

"We will be together again," he whispered to Elena, kissing her head.

He flipped his grimoire to the correct page, then he began to chant again, thankful that he had taken Bonnie's blood, and that Elena apparently had as well.

More crackling.

More light.

It surrounded them.

His brother began backing away, horrified.

Damon finished the spell, then shot a look at Stefan.

Stefan, who would be alone, waiting until the next comet passing.

He smirked, "See you in five hundred years, brother."

He drove the dagger into his own heart.

Another crash.

Another flash of light, this one so bright, Stefan had to shield his eyes.

Then all was still.

* * *

Stefan peaked into the clearing.

It was empty.

Damon and Elena's bodies were gone.

He hit his knees.

What had he done?

What had he done?

* * *

**Wahahaha. My evil witch laugh lol**

**Sooo other than wanting to kill me, what did ya'll think?**

**Can't wait to read the reviews! I'm sure they will be...interesting.**

**:)**


	36. Chapter 36

**This is the last Past chapter.**

**Just bringing the story full circle.**

* * *

_**October, 1567**_

* * *

"Damon!" She called out, running through the long hall, toward the west tower.

The flowing red train of her dress barely hindered her, as she climbed quickly up the stairs.

But she was too late.

The king's men were already there, putting her lover in chains, and had clamped a metal guard around his mouth.

Though he could still speak, as her name fell from his lips.

"What do you think you are doing?!" She demanded of the men.

The captain gave her a look of regret, "Sorry, my lady, but we have our orders. He's set to burn."

She shook her head, "What is he being charged with?"

The Captain finished the last of Damon's clasps, before starting.

"I am not at liberty to release this sort of-"

"Captain, I am Elena Petrova, Princess of Mystic, the future queen of Aurelia, and you will tell me what he is charged with."

The captain eyed her, but one of the other soldiers answered, "He's done the devil's work, your highness."

She met Damon's eyes, and found the blue pair calm.

He'd known this would happen...had warned her of such.

She relaxed her body, knowing what she had to do.

The only way they could be together.

"You're referring to the murder of the king?"

More than anything, this grabbed their attention, and the Captain moved to confront her, "You knew?!"

She smiled slowly, "Of course I did. I know of all the murders, the blood, the powers."

He grasped her arm, "You realize you could be beheaded for this! If you didn't speak up, you are as good as an accomplice!"

She rose a brow, forcing her face to change.

He let her go, upon seeing the veins run under her eyes, giving her the chance to slip her dagger from under her dress.

"You!" He gasped, "You're one of them?!"

Instead of answering, Elena lunged forward, slicing open his throat, as yells of terror filled the air.

She pulled him down to her, the dark essence of his life staining the front of her dress.

She put her mouth to the gushing wound.

The blood poured from him, as he grasped at her back, tearing the fabric of her dress.

She soon felt other hands on her, the soldiers trying to pry her from him, but she threw them off with her mind, and focused on the blood.

The captain no longer fought against her, and she knew he was dead.

She released his body, and whirled around to the others.

She was about to choose her next victim when, in a flash, the soldier to her right had pulled the lid off his flask, and drenched her with it's content.

She curled her lip, annoyed, "I am not a creature of the night, you fool. Vervain has no affect on me."

"Buu- Your face!" He stuttered.

She grinned, "You will see whatever I want you to see."

Then she wiped away the water, and sighed, "I suppose I could come quietly though. Wouldn't want you to lose your head over an escaped prisoner."

She threw her dagger to the ground and stuck out her hands.

Hesitantly, they chained her.

Her eyes found Damon's again, and he looked rather amused by the events.

* * *

The soldiers then forced them down the stairs, out of the tower, and into the wide, torch lit, hall of windows.

She heard voices approaching, and guessed that someone had ran for help.

What she had not expected, was to find her fiancee at the front of the battalion that had come to aid.

Stefan Salvatore, Damon's brother, and Aurelia's future king.

He didn't seem surprised to find her in chains, but his expression was heavy.

"I'd prayed it wasn't true," he swallowed, lifting a hand to the amulet at her neck, it's crimson red stone reflected the light of the torches, "But I was too late to save you, wasn't I?"

Damon's laughter vibrated behind his iron mouth guard, "How noble of you, brother...But surely you must realize that she was never yours to save."

Anger flashed in Stefan's eyes, "I loved her Damon. And you knew it. That's the only reason you insisted on poisoning her mind with your witchcraft."

Damon's brow raised, "You still believe me a witch? How quaint. But I can assure you, Elena's choices were her own."

"I loved her!" Stefan bellowed, grabbing Damon's head, "I loved you both. But I can't protect you from this. You will burn at the stake with my bride at your side...can this truly be what you wanted?"

Damon still managed to sound amused, "So even after such a boast of feelings, You won't save her? If I have truly twisted her mind, surely she cannot be held guilty...or is this her punishment, brother, for loving me?"

Stefan dropped his hands, his voice cold, "I tried to save her from you."

"But I didn't want to be saved," Elena spoke, causing both brothers to look at her, "It was my choice, Stefan. Everything he did to me, I chose."

His face seemed to pale, as he whispered, "Why?"

"My entire life, I've done exactly as I was supposed to do," she reasoned, "I was the perfect daughter, and believed to make the perfect wife...But I wanted more."

"I would have given you everything," he argued, and she sighed.

"No, You couldn't. I was brought here for you, because our fathers believed that joining Aurelia and Mystic would be logical, brilliant. They'd double their forces and conquer the world. We were means to an end, given a duty we were expected to follow. But Damon showed me another way to live, and you have never felt power such as this," she insisted, "There is no end, no limitation to what is possible...And Damon has shown me that a love, if strong enough, is not tied to one mere mortal lifetime. We are eternal."

Stefan swallowed, "What you speak is blasphemy."

She smiled, "Then I shall burn. And from the ashes I will return, until such a time when Damon is king. And Aurelia is forever ripped from your weakening rule."

Stefan's eyes searched hers, "Damon was never fit to be king. His evil would destroy us, and for that reason, he lost his birthright. And now he's killed our father. Shaken the very foundation of our kingdom. One I will secure. Aurelia will live, thanks to me."

"No," she insisted, "I have seen what is to come. You, Aurelia's great and noble prince, will be her downfall. This dynasty will end with your death. Her structure will crumble as the halls run red with the blood of all that were needlessly sacrificed. And you will cease to exist, until the time has come for the House of Petrova to rise, upon a new Aurelia, and you will be there, watching as Damon and I tower before you from the top of her walls, her throne, and then you will truly know the inheritance of our birthright."

Stefan was stunned to silence, his eyes drowning in hers, until he whispered, "Witch."

She grinned, and he composed himself, "Guards, take them to the stake, and tie them together. Then let them burn. Let them see what their love has rewarded them."

Elena kept the smile on her face as he spun away, and started back down the hall.

He had no idea how true her words would come to be.

* * *

The metal of the chains dug into her wrists, but she hardly felt it.

They were finally out of the castle, being led by a collection of the king's guard, into the lawns opening, near the garden, where she could hear the screams and chatter of the villagers, having come to watch the show.

She smirked.

They reached the wooden stage, and the crowd fell silent.

She was held as Damon was tied up first, his back to the stake, his arms behind him.

They finally removed his mouth guard, and his beautiful face reflected from the surrounding torches and the light of the high moon.

He'd been right, it was full tonight.

But even better was the comet of Aurora Borealis at its corner, exactly as they'd predicted.

She kept her eyes on the sky, until one of the men dragged her, pressing her into Damon's body, as he looped her arms through his, and around the pole, securing them.

Damon looked down at her, "Are you alright?"

She met his gaze, "Perfect."

"The comet is aligned," he noted, "You've done the ritual, I presume?"

She nodded, "It's done. And we've both taken in human blood tonight. The last step is to..."

"Burn," he finished for her.

She leaned her head on his chest, "Promise me that this will work, Damon. That we'll be together again."

He kissed the top of her head, as the executioner began reading their offenses.

"Of course it will work."

"But the spell has never been performed for two. We don't know the effects of it. One of us could be different..."

"It'll work," he assured her, "We'll make each other remember if we must. Everything will be fine. This comet is one of nature's strongest recurring events, and you are the most talented spell caster I've ever seen."

She pulled away, meeting his gaze, "Only because of you, my love."

He smirked, "I may have put you on the path, but your abilities are natural."

She smiled, but her attention was diverted as the guard's speech ended, and they brought the torches forward.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous.

She knew this had to be done tonight, but the thought of the death that was now upon her filled her with fear.

Damon's voice reached out, "Look at me, Elena."

She forced herself to do as he said.

His face remained calm, "Keep your eyes on me."

She nodded, as light from the fire flooded behind her.

Damon's gaze held her, "The pain will be temporary, darling, and eternity still awaits."

She swallowed, nodding, "I love you."

He leaned down, straining against their binds to catch her mouth.

He kissed her soundly, before whispering, "I love you, too. We'll be together again."

The flames had nearly reached them now and Damon began to chant in a low tone.

She quickly picked up on what he was saying, and knew it was the last phase of the spell.

So she chanted too.

Their words grew louder, and louder, above the yells of the villagers, and whispers of their witchcraft.

The fire licked at her heels now, and caught onto her dress.

The heat was stinging against her legs, but still she chanted.

She spoke the spell until she could no longer endure the pain, and she dropped her head to Damon's neck, screaming into his skin.

His cries soon joined hers, and the smoke filled their lungs.

* * *

She managed, in that last moment, to look over Damon's shoulder, through the flames, and saw the castle, the heart of Aurelia, standing tall.

She smiled through the agony.

Goodbye, my beautiful home.

Damon's words rang in her ears.

"We'll be together again."

I promise.

* * *

**I'll add an epilogue soon. **

**So glad most of you liked the story! **

**If you have any questions, leave them in a review or pm me :)**

**Thanks. **


	37. Chapter 37

**And here's the final chapter!**

**Hope ya'll enjoyed and feel free to pm me with any questions :)**

* * *

**_October, 2498 (Future)_**

* * *

The young woman watched the dark haired man closely.

She had been doing so for days now, unnoticed in the shadows of the city.

She did not want to get close until she was sure.

Absolutely positive.

And now, she was.

* * *

Damon was late.

Not that anyone would point this fact out.

After all, he was the boss.

CEO of Aurelia Enterprise, a company he'd built straight out of college, which, thanks to his hard work, had developed into an international trade center for micro coded software.

He had surprised himself and his adopted parents, with his success.

Strangely, it was as if he had been born to be a leader.

Damon's car finally reached it's destination, coming to a stop.

The doors lifted, allowing him to climb out, and closed again, once he was free.

Tapping the voice activation screen on the window, he commanded the machine to park.

It's internal computer had already been downloaded with the location of his VIP parking garage.

Satisfied as it pulled off the curb, Damon looked up at his building.

It was one of the taller towers in the city, certainly the newest.

The company name stretched across the top, large enough to be seen for miles by any form of transportation.

Aurelia.

He'd chosen the name in honor of the site his building had broken ground on.

Apparently, some thousand years ago, it had been the location of a castle, it's ruins left in monument, until the development of the city had started.

The details were foggy, but the kingdom's name had stuck with him.

It had taken time, a lot of it, but she had flourished.

Aurelia now stood at twelve stories, his top floor office over looking the city.

* * *

As he approached the front glass doors, they slid open.

The lobby awaiting him was clean, pristine.

One of his secretaries spotted him immediately, and rushed over.

"Mr. Salvatore! You had a visitor come by minutes ago. A young woman. She insisted that she would not need an appointment."

Damon frowned.

He knew lots of young women.

But none who he was expecting in his office today.

"Is she still here?" He inquired, as the secretary handed him a cup of coffee.

"Yes, sir. I sent her up to the waiting room outside your office."

He nodded, reaching the elevator, "Very well."

Damon wasn't sure what he was expecting to find as he reached his floor and the doors opened.

But he had not imagined to find an empty waiting room.

His office door was cracked slightly.

His discomfort grew.

Why would the guest enter his office?

A little annoyed, he crossed the room in easy strides and pulled open the door.

* * *

She was standing by his glass wall, looking down upon the sprawling city below.

Thick dark waves cascaded down her back, onto the tight red dress she wore that ended just above her knees.

Black heels were on her feet, and a black jacket laid across one of her toned arms.

She was beautiful.

Damon cleared his throat, and saw her inhale slowly.

As if she had been waiting for this moment.

Hesitantly, she turned.

Her face was even more beautiful than her body.

Dark skin, high cheekbones, and lashes that went on for miles surrounding chocolate irises.

A fancy jewel adorned her throat, a ruby, he thought, hanging loose on a gold chain.

And for whatever reason, it all seemed very familiar.

"Damon," she breathed.

Her voice melted him, absolutely melted him as it called to something deep...something that squeezed his chest.

He swallowed, "That would be correct..."

She walked over to him, slowly closing the distance, until they were inches apart.

Her eyes traveled over him hungrily, as if committing his every crevice to memory.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

Because, with the way she was looking at him, he needed to do something with his lips that wouldn't be considered inappropriate.

Her hand reached out, landing on his chest, and he froze.

Why did he feel like he should recognize her from somewhere?

"You did it," her musical voice was filled with amazement, "You rose Aurelia...perhaps not the way I envisioned, but you did."

He didn't understand what she meant, and why she sounded so pleased.

"Why are you here?" He tried a different question.

Her brow lifted, "Where else would I be?"

Then her arms were around his neck, and she was kissing him.

Damon reacted on instinct, pulling her hard against him, a hand knotting in her hair.

She moaned into his mouth, and fit perfectly against his body, and good _lord_, why did this feel so right?

He pulled away to look at her.

Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and warm eyes.

He held a goddess in his arms.

"Who _are_ you?" He asked breathlessly.

Her smile was brilliant.

"I'm the person that's going to save you."

* * *

The woman understood his confused look.

After all, this time, it was Damon without the memories of their love.

But even so, he had succeeded.

He had fulfilled her prophecy.

It seemed so long ago that she had spoken the words.

* * *

_From the ashes I will return, until such a time when Damon is king..._

_The time has come for the House of Petrova to rise, upon a new Aurelia..._

_Damon and I will tower before you from the top of her walls, her throne..._

* * *

They had finally made it.

Damon would remember soon enough.

After all, the comet was only a few days away, and she had already tracked down the latest in the Bennett bloodline.

Stefan had yet to show up in Mystic.

She wondered if he even would.

Maybe he had gone mad, in his years alone.

Maybe he had truly become a killer.

Maybe he had died.

She did not know, and she might not ever, but that was alright.

Because he was not here now, and Damon stood before her.

Her dark prince.

The love of her life, in whatever life.

And in this life, they would be together, with Aurelia.

But one step at a time.

* * *

"Elena," she finally told him, smiling again, "You can call me Elena."

* * *

**So that's it :)**

**Let me know what you think! **

**Oh, and since you guys loved the dark theme so much, I'm working on another fic with a similar flavor ;)**

**So stay tuned! **

**Xoxo**


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